Chapter 260 — Chris's Dilemma
Inside a carpeted corridor of a private hospital.
Chris stood outside the examination room, her arms folded tightly across her chest as she paced back and forth.
Suddenly—
Click.
The wooden door opened, and Regan's attending physician stepped out.
Chris covered her chin with one hand, staring straight at him.
"Regan's condition is…" the doctor began, lighting a cigarette as he spoke.
"…a typical abnormality in the brain's chemical electrical activity. In other words, there's a problem with your daughter's temporal lobe—right here."
He pointed to the area near his temple.
"This type of condition isn't particularly complicated. It often causes hallucinations, seizures, and other related symptoms. Without a doubt, the shaking bed you described at home is related to these issues."
"No… that wasn't a seizure."
Chris's voice rose with agitation.
"I was there! The entire bed was shaking violently—forward, backward, side to side. There's no way Regan could have caused that! I was on the bed too—I saw everything!"
Across from her, the doctor remained calm.
"The problem isn't the bed, Ms. Chris. The problem lies in your daughter's brain."
Chris closed her eyes again and covered her mouth. After taking a deep breath, she nodded.
"Then what caused the change in her personality?" she asked.
"Well…"
The doctor walked down the corridor, thinking as he spoke.
"Damage to the temporal lobe can cause many symptoms—strong destructive impulses, even criminal behavior. Such conditions can last several days."
Chris lowered her gaze, disappointment filling her expression.
"Is there… any good news?"
"If it's purely brain damage, we may only need to remove a small portion of the affected tissue. But that requires more detailed examinations."
---
Soon after, Regan was wheeled into another examination room on a hospital bed.
Chris stood behind the glass in the observation room.
She watched as doctors changed Regan into a hospital gown and attached diagnostic equipment to both of her shoulders.
Then a nurse swabbed iodine across Regan's neck.
A doctor picked up a syringe about five centimeters long and inserted it into the side of Regan's neck.
Hiss…
A thin jet of blood immediately burst out, leaving a long streak across Regan's body.
Chris shut her eyes at once.
After biting her lip, she forced herself to look again.
---
The examination results came quickly.
"…The blood vessels are normal. Other areas of the brain appear normal as well," the imaging specialist reported to the attending physician.
"Should I run another scan?"
"I don't think that's necessary," the attending physician replied, shaking his head.
"I think… we should prescribe some sedatives for Regan first."
---
One Day Later
The attending physician received another urgent call from Chris, asking him to come immediately.
Manhattan — Luxury Residence
The doctor and an assistant hurried to the house.
As soon as they stepped inside, they heard loud shouting.
They rushed upstairs to Regan's bedroom.
The girl was thrashing wildly on her bed, screaming repeatedly:
"Please help me! It's going to kill me!"
Chris stood nearby, panic written all over her face as her eyes darted between the doctors and her daughter.
The attending physician looked confused but cautiously approached the bed.
Suddenly—
BAM!
Regan shot upright and punched the doctor viciously in the face.
Then a sharp, unfamiliar voice burst from her throat:
"Get away! This one belongs to me!"
"Get out!"
"Get out!"
After several furious roars, Regan's voice suddenly reverted to that of a frightened girl.
She screamed uncontrollably, her body seemingly beyond her control.
Then she began slapping herself repeatedly.
Seeing this, Chris finally lost control of her own emotions and broke down in hysterical sobs.
"We need to give her a sedative immediately!" the attending physician shouted, opening his medical case.
Nearby, the housekeeper quickly pulled Chris out of the room, fearing she wouldn't be able to bear the scene.
Just before the door closed, Chris heard her daughter's desperate plea:
"Please… don't let them do this to me."
---
A while later, the door opened again.
The doctor and his assistant walked out, both exhausted.
"We gave her several doses of sedatives. She should sleep until tomorrow."
Chris looked dazed.
"How… how did she become like this?"
"Well… her condition might cause bursts of abnormal strength," the assistant explained.
"There are precedents in medicine. Once, a mother whose child was trapped under a truck suddenly lifted the vehicle slightly through sheer adrenaline."
The attending physician added,
"We still believe it's related to the temporal lobe…"
"Oh, for God's sake!"
Chris could no longer endure their explanations.
Frowning, she shouted angrily:
"Didn't you see what she looked like?! She was like someone with split personalities! What does that have to do with the temporal—whatever you call it?! Three test reports and none of them found anything, yet you're still—"
She stopped herself before saying more.
Lowering her head, she forced herself to calm down.
"…I'm sorry."
She raised her head again.
"What do we do next?"
The doctor exchanged a glance with his assistant.
"To determine the cause of the brain abnormality, we may need to perform another spinal tap."
Hearing those words, the image of blood spraying from Regan's neck flashed again in Chris's mind.
"Oh God…"
She turned toward the wall.
"It's for Regan's sake… Maybe the problem that the X-rays missed…"
---
Another Day Later
Regan's fourth examination report came back.
The result was exactly the same as before.
Nothing was wrong.
At this point, Chris felt truly desperate.
Even the attending physician had begun to lose confidence.
At one point he even asked whether there were drugs in her home.
Eventually the hospital suggested bringing in a psychiatrist.
Chris had no other choice.
But when she returned home, another tragedy struck.
A close friend from the entertainment industry came to visit her—
and was later found dead outside the staircase of her house.
His neck had been twisted a full 180 degrees, a horrifying sight.
At the same time, Regan's condition grew even worse.
She began descending the stairs backward, blood dripping from her mouth, and started harming herself with sharp objects.
Chris tried to stop her many times.
But Regan's strength had become terrifyingly great.
And from her mouth came filthy, obscene language—
"Bitch."
"Lick me."
Even the furniture in her room began moving on its own.
At that moment, Chris finally understood something deep in her heart.
The soul inside Regan's body…
was no longer her daughter.
---
Early the next morning…
Chris dragged her exhausted body to the dining table.
Suddenly, the housemaid rushed in holding a newspaper, her face full of excitement.
"Mrs. MacNeil, you have to see this!"
Chris took the newspaper with confusion, but the large headline immediately caught her eye:
"Shocking! 287 Psychiatric Patients Recover Overnight! Could This Be a Miracle?"
Chris instantly straightened in her chair.
As she read deeper into the report, the stagnant waters of her heart felt as if a massive stone had been thrown into them.
---
State Psychiatric Hospital — Private Ward
Carlos had just escorted a group of visiting doctors out.
After several days of treatment, his mother's condition had stabilized. Even the leg injury she suffered earlier had begun to heal.
A long-lost smile appeared on Carlos's face.
Returning to the bedside, he picked up a stack of books from the table.
The top one was titled "Records of Church Exorcisms."
Carlos opened the book and began sorting the major events by year.
This was something Father Gideonhad asked him to help with.
Although Carlos didn't know the reason, he carried out the task with great care.
After all, if not for this kind man, he might have already lost his mother.
Not long after, the door to the ward opened.
"Father Gideon!"
Carlos's eyes lit up.
"Did you manage to find that hotel?"
"Perhaps it moved elsewhere," Gideon replied casually. "It's not important. By the way, did those doctors come by?"
"They just left. They said Mother's recovery is progressing well."
Gideon nodded.
Over the past few days, aside from helping patients, he had been studying various historical records of this world.
And he had indeed discovered something strange.
Back when he served at the West District Community Church, Gideon had read enormous numbers of church texts.
But in this time period, some of those records didn't match.
Some books didn't even exist at all.
He then tried to locate the Exorcists' Guild.
Based on the timeline, the guild should have already gained some recognition—even if it wasn't very large yet.
However, what Gideon found instead was an assassin organization called "The Round Table."
Its headquarters was a hotel located at the same crossroads address.
Beyond that, there were countless small discrepancies—
Things that looked similar to his original world, yet subtly different.
All this led Gideon to a troubling conclusion:
The world he had arrived in might not actually be the same world he came from.
I still need to obtain the Sacred Apostle Emblem as soon as possible… he thought.
As for the emblem—
Gideon had already examined the one Carlos carried. He even tried dripping his own blood onto it.
But the emblem showed no reaction at all.
There were only two possible explanations.
First: the emblem itself was defective.
Gideon had already asked Carlos about it.
Carlos explained that the item came from the Church. Because of his excellent theological performance, it had been awarded to him as a commemorative relic.
Objects like it were rare within the Church and once symbolized sacred exorcism artifacts.
So Gideon quickly ruled out that possibility.
Which left only the second explanation:
He, Gideon, was not considered a devout, courageous, and virtuous priest.
That was complete nonsense!
Did those twenty-year and thirty-year holy relics in his pockets look fake?
Were the sacred techniques he had mastered across every stage of theology imaginary?
Could the Church really find someone more orthodox than him?
"No. I still have to check the silver emblem Father Merrin mentioned," Gideon decided inwardly.
---
Meanwhile — The Church
In recent days, Gideon's miraculous healing at the hospital had drawn significant media attention.
During every interview, he made the same statement:
"I possess no supernatural powers. I simply help people untangle the knots in their hearts through conversation."
Some people labeled him a fraud, claiming he was selling religion during difficult times.
Others came to him for help, begging him to awaken their loved ones as well.
Gideon ignored the former.
As for the latter, he helped when he could—and used the opportunity to gather information.
The Church itself did not trouble him.
They only sent someone to remind him that in such times he should avoid using this method to promote religion.
That actually rendered some of Gideon's preparations unnecessary.
Later, Carlos explained the reason.
Over the past two years, the Church had recruited large numbers of clergy, and identity checks had become relatively loose.
The goal was to increase church participation in community nonprofit services.
Looking back, that situation seemed to persist until Gideon eventually arrived in the American Horror Story world.
Only after the appearance of the "Holy Word" did things begin to change.
---
Knock… knock…
A nurse entered the room.
"Father Carlos? There's a phone call for you. The caller says he's your friend."
Carlos stood up in confusion.
When he returned, he approached Gideon.
"Father Gideon, that was a friend from the church. He wants to ask for your help."
Gideon raised an eyebrow.
"Do you know Chris—the famous actress?"
"I've heard of her."
"Recently her film crew has been shooting at the church where I used to work. My friend happens to know her."
Carlos handed Gideon a piece of paper with an address written on it.
"She saw the news about you. Since I'm here with you, she wants to invite you for a consultation."
So it begins.
Chris had indeed reached out first.
Gideon took the note.
The meeting time was set for 9:00 a.m. tomorrow.
"If it's inconvenient for you, I can refuse on your behalf," Carlos said, heading toward the door.
"It's fine," Gideon replied with a faint smile.
"I happen to be free tomorrow."
---
The Next Day
The two men arrived at a park according to the address.
From a distance, Gideon spotted a tightly bundled figure.
"Ms. Chris?" Carlos called out as he approached.
"Stay back."
"We came according to the arrangement."
Only then did Chris turn around.
"Sorry… I thought you were reporters."
After introductions, Chris began asking about Gideon and Carlos's backgrounds.
Beyond their education, she seemed particularly concerned about whether clergy would keep believers' secrets.
Gideon handled the questions calmly.
Finally, Chris brought up the real reason for the meeting.
"Gentlemen… what do you think about exorcism?"
Carlos blinked.
"I'm sorry?"
"For example… if a friend's relative were possessed by a demon, how would one perform an exorcism?"
Carlos opened his mouth.
A few days earlier, he would have answered immediately:
"Tell your friend to build a time machine and travel back to the 16th century."
But after meeting Father Gideon and witnessing the hospital miracle, his certainty had begun to waver.
So he turned to Gideon.
Chris followed his gaze.
"Before I answer," Gideon said calmly, "I have a question for you."
"Go ahead," Chris replied, adjusting her sunglasses.
"Why are you interested in exorcism?"
"Since the Church began studying mental illness, these matters are rarely mentioned anymore."
"Why?"
"Because most so-called exorcisms eventually turn out to be psychological disorders," Gideon explained.
"So I would recommend your friend consult a psychiatrist."
"Of course, if that's why you came to me, then perhaps you should bring your friend to the hospital with me."
Chris's voice grew urgent.
"I'm not going to the hospital… I…"
After hesitating, she finally told the truth.
"I came here because of my daughter, Regan. Four examinations have produced no results, so the doctors suggested I seek psychological or religious help."
"I see," Gideon nodded.
Although he had been waiting for Chris to come to him, he still needed to confirm that she hadn't been influenced by the Church—or manipulated by some demon.
"Now, to answer your earlier question," Gideon continued.
"To determine whether someone requires exorcism, certain signs must be present."
"For example:
Has the person's personality changed drastically in a short period of time?
Have they suddenly learned a language they never studied?
Or have they developed unusual abilities?"
The moment he finished speaking—
Chris removed her sunglasses.
And stared at Gideon with overwhelming excitement.