Still, nobody suspected the pastor.
How could they?
The church looked successful.
What nobody understood was that their virtues were being drained little by little, and the pastor’s unnatural increase was feeding on what was leaving them.
One evening, Mrs. Grace was about to leave her office after a long meeting when an elderly woman suddenly approached her by the gate.
The woman looked old and tired.
“Please help me with something to eat,” she said softly.
Mrs. Grace opened her bag and handed her some money immediately.
But instead of thanking her and leaving, the old woman stared deeply into her eyes. Her expression suddenly changed.
“The hand that collects glory cannot stop until the vessel is empty,” the woman whispered, her voice like dried leaves. “The predator is hungry, and he remembers the one who got away.”
Mrs. Grace froze.
A cold feeling moved through her instantly.
Before she could ask a single question, the elderly woman turned and walked away slowly into the evening crowd.
She knew the warning was not just about the past.
It was about the future.
The words stayed in her spirit long after the woman disappeared.
That night, she prayed longer than usual. Then the next day, even longer. Soon, she began fasting constantly, studying scripture deeply, and withdrawing from unnecessary distractions.
Something inside her knew danger was still ahead.
And she was right.
Far away from the public eye, the pastor himself was beginning to panic.
Inside a hidden gathering with the cult men he secretly served, the atmosphere became tense. The leaders informed him that the spiritual glory he had been harvesting from church members was no longer enough.
A bigger sacrifice was now required.
At first, he smiled nervously, thinking they were joking.
But then one of them spoke calmly.
“When it flows from your household…”
The pastor’s face changed immediately.
The room became cold.
“Your wife,” one of them said quietly. “Or your first son.”
Fear gripped him instantly. His breathing became uneven.
This was never what he had agreed to.
All he wanted was fast success, crowded services, fame, influence, and wealth. He believed all he needed to do was continue harvesting spiritual virtues from members through the laying of hands.
Desperately, he began pleading.
“This was not our agreement,” his voice shook badly. “I cannot do that to my family.”
The men around him laughed softly. One of them leaned forward.
“Every car you drive came through us. Every crowd you boast about came through us. Every miracle that made people fear you came through us.”
He tried to pull out, but the cult leaders laughed.
Then a voice spoke from the darkness.
“Nobody leaves.”
The pastor suddenly realized he was trapped.
If he refused them, he could lose everything, possibly even his own life.
For days, fear tormented him secretly. He could not sleep properly. Every time he looked at his wife or children, guilt crushed him.
But deep inside, he still loved power too much to lose it all.
Then finally, he made another deal.
Instead of sacrificing someone from his household, he promised to bring them another person. Someone whose glory carried weight. Someone deeply connected.
And immediately, one name came to his mind.
Mrs. Grace.
To the cult, she was priceless.
Everything about her made her valuable.
From that moment, Mrs. Grace was no longer just a woman who had escaped deception.
She was a target.
And the man she once called father was now her hunter.
Not long after, church members started visiting Mrs. Grace at home.
At first, it looked innocent. A few women from the prayer group came with fruits and soft smiles. Then assistant pastors began calling regularly.
Even people who had ignored her for months suddenly became concerned about her spiritual life.
Their words sounded caring, but Mrs. Grace could now see through them.
“Daddy has been praying for you.”
