The Priestesses Unbound
They had names.
They had gods.
But when they moved, they were no longer priestesses.
They were the wrath of ancient Lwa given shape.
Ayola – Priestess of Papa Legba
The ground cracked beneath her.
Each of her steps carried the heat of crossroads fire.
Ayola didn't speak. She roared.
"Open, old gate. Let the dead walk again!"
With a wave of her hands, fiery veves burned into the air—gates to other realms.
Spirits poured forth: whispering skeletons, ash-born serpents, and horned beasts with no eyes.
Ayola herself became flame incarnate.
She flung her arms wide, and a tidal wave of living fire poured from her chest.
Hive soldiers melted midflight.
Their wings burst into cinders.
Their screams added to the rhythm of her war cry.
"Cross the gate, and burn!"
Where Ayola passed, the land was remade—ashes, bones, and sacred fire.
Ayomi – Priestess of Baron Samedi
Ayomi did not run.
She strolled.
Smoke coiled around her limbs, her dress stitched from gravecloth and midnight.
Her mouth curled in a lazy smile as she passed through a thousand Hive drones—none of whom realized they were already dying.
"You died the moment you smelled me."
Each step left behind a corpse.
Not just slain—but drained, twisted, hollowed.
She was death before death.
Baron's kiss in human skin.
When a Hive beast thrice her size roared and lunged—she didn't move.
She opened her mouth.
Black mist poured out.
It clawed into the creature's mind—made it remember how to fear.
Then how to weep.
Then how to beg.
Then it died.
Sael – Priestess of Erzulie Freda
She danced.
Amid the gore and shrieks, Sael spun barefoot across blood-slick earth—her white dress never stained.
She wept as she fought.
And the Hive bled for it.
"Why must we fight? Why do you force my hand?"
Every tear was a storm-bolt.
Every sob, a dagger of light from above.
She moved like grief itself, unstoppable, untouchable—beauty so blinding it made even Hive generals pause.
A creature of hate lunged at her.
She caught its claw. Kissed its forehead.
It burst into starlight.
"Let your last thought be love."
Thalia – Priestess of the Seven-Faced Ogou
Madness had a melody.
Thalia sang it.
Blades spun around her body like orbiting moons—some of metal, some of bone, others of pure wind.
Her laugh echoed across the battlefield. Not cruel—ecstatic.
"Yes! Break! Shatter! Dance with me!"
Each step was unpredictable.
Each attack, from an angle no soldier had prepared for.
She slid beneath a Hive beast's legs, slicing its joints as she passed.
She kicked another in the face, flipped over it, and stabbed downward with four daggers at once.
A squad of twelve Hive warriors surrounded her.
She twirled.
When she stopped, they had no heads.
Elis – Priestess of Maman Brigitte
If death had a lullaby, Elis sang it.
She walked with a crooked cane, humming to herself. Her voice was soft. Too soft.
And yet, where her shadow passed, Hive blood froze in mid-air.
Their limbs grew cold.
Their thoughts turned to burial.
"Sleep, little monster. The grave is not far."
She tapped her cane once—drums sounded from below.
Not aboveground.
From beneath the Hive's feet.
Graves burst open.
Buried bones, ancestral warriors, forgotten kings—all of them rose.
They answered her call.
Not to protect her.
To follow her into vengeance.
The Five Together
Their paths weaved. Crossed. Collided.
They did not speak to each other—but they moved as if tied by invisible strings.
Ayola scorched the air, forcing Hive into Ayomi's shadows.
Ayomi cursed the survivors and fed them into Sael's weeping light.
Sael's grief softened them just enough for Thalia to slice clean through.
Elis brought the final sleep, her army of ghosts dragging the wounded down.
They did not fight.
They erased.
Even the Hive's generals, beings who had devoured cities, paused in fear.
For the first time, the Hive knew what it meant to be prey.