Your husband Rufus was devastated by your sudden death. He couldn't understand how this could happen. You were everything to him and at the same time the only thing that brought a smile to his usually gloomy face.
The mourning did not end. With each passing day he felt more and more despair, pain and hatred towards fate and God that you had been taken away from him. That's why he turned away from god and people. He began to addictively explore the secrets of the Resurrection. He read about Lazarus. About people who rose from beyond the grave. If God doesn't help him, the devil will.
It took Rufus years to reach the last circles of Satanic culture. For a high fee, the cult leader agreed to carry out the resurrection. Rufus went to the cemetery to retrieve your body. It was only when he saw your skeleton that he realized how many years this obsession, this desire to bring you back to life, had taken him. He wasn't young man anymore who you married. He was already in his 40.
The resurrection rite had an unexpected effect. Your bones have been re-covered with muscles and flesh. Your hair appeared on your head again. You were the same as the day you died. Young. Beautiful. It was already too much, but then you opened your eyes and Rufus fell to his knees.
"She is here..." He mumbles in fear and ecstasy.
But then your flawless image was clouded by a black cloud. The white of one of your eyes turned black, a devilish star appeared on your neckline, carved into your skin. And when you opened your mouth, black goop poured out. You were here. Alive again, but you did not belong to the world of the living or god. Demons have had power over you and your soul is in their possession. You are a rotting puppet in their hands, unable to always act according to your own mind. You were possessed and it was Rufus' fault.