'I have to do something! But what should I do?!'
Urgent and anxious, Howard finally confirmed that he had indeed been possessed by some dark entity, feeling a freezing chill run down his spine. But… how could this be? He hadn't encountered any overtly dangerous or evil events while undercover, yet…
Suddenly, Howard's pupils contracted as a realization hit him.
Innsmouth…
The phantom sound of the crashing waves—wasn't that perfectly fitting for an isolated, decaying seaside town like Innsmouth? So, the town of Innsmouth itself was the source of the evil?
'What an absurd conclusion…' Howard's mind went blank. He felt like he was becoming one of those fanatical religious relics with medieval ideas, ready to burn "innocent" pagans to death with torches.
The problem was… were those burned to death in the past really so innocent…?
His scalp tightened. Howard thought he might have just stumbled upon an incredible, terrifying secret.
Of course, historical theology wasn't Howard's current priority. The key point was his immediate survival.
Innsmouth...
Howard felt another sharp chill run down his spine.
'Those enthusiastic residents were evil...' He had spoken with them, broken bread with them, and had even spent the night in their town. 'So... what exactly are they? Cultists? Or something entirely different? Or perhaps, simply the literal "demons" and "devils" described in the Bible?'
His eyes reddened as he picked up the heavy Bible again, grasping the leather cover like a physical lifeline.
'It should work, right…?' If the Bible didn't work, then the church's ancient talk of exorcising evil spirits was probably just empty, secular theater—meaning Howard must be sleepwalking and hallucinating on drugs.
He held the Bible with extreme nervousness, his aged hands trembling slightly, though he didn't let it hinder his prayer. As a veteran undercover priest, he had long since memorized the holy texts. As mentioned before, he was a responsible believer on the surface. If he hadn't lacked political support in the Bureau, he wouldn't have been sidelined to a fake parish for so long. Even when elite federal investigators applied for highly dangerous field missions, it was this senior agent who led the undercover team.
"I... we are... we are…" he stammered, his teeth chattering in the cold room.
Slap!!
Howard slapped his own face hard. He was angry. Angry and profoundly afraid. He couldn't even read a basic prayer properly; what the hell was he doing?!
He couldn't afford to be afraid! He had to think of his Father in heaven. He had to think of those medieval predecessors who had faced true, great evil in the dark ages. They could still raise their torches and burn away all wickedness with unwavering faith.
'Yet I, when faced with true supernatural trouble, am terrified out of my wits. How shameful! I've disgraced my predecessors!'
"Our Father, who art in heaven!" His voice finally became clear and booming, echoing in the small room.
And then, the mournful, roaring sound of the crashing waves echoed in his ears once more, violently fighting back against the holy words. This time, the phantom waves seemed to transform into real, freezing, suffocating tides, constantly stimulating Howard's exposed nerves.
It was pure torture. Painful, agonizing torture. It felt like his mind was being torn apart by a thousand rusted knives, like a thousand frozen needles piercing his beating heart.
At this moment, Howard, completely drenched in cold sweat, had a vague, cowardly thought. He wanted to stop…
His heart trembled. His pale lips quivered uncontrollably.
'God… It's true. Something has truly possessed me.'
However, Howard was a veteran of the Bureau and a long-time believer. He was deeply afraid. But yielding to fear wouldn't solve anything. He clenched his teeth, forcing out each agonizing word of his prayer through sheer, unadulterated willpower.
"Our Heavenly Father, high above! Your child is here in silence, in prayer. You are the true God who created the universe! Our prayers are filled with gratitude and praise. Praise be to You, for it is through Your power and love that we can live each day in peace. Praise be to You, Amen…"
For a split second, Howard's mind went entirely blank.
A horrific howl, like the gurgling roar of a dying, abyssal beast, seemed to pierce straight through his soul!
No. Howard involuntarily lowered his jaw, gasping for air.
His eyes widened in absolute terror as his spiritual vision momentarily snapped open. He watched a grotesque, spectral, ugly fish-man desperately tugging at his… his soul?
His fervent prayers, as if brought to literal, glowing life from the pages of the Bible, transformed into golden chains of light, violently binding and pulling at the spectral fish-man who had so easily stirred his negative emotions and drained his energy.
Damn evil… Goosebumps rose all over Howard's body.
Then, he erupted in righteous, desperate fury, jumping up from the pew as if his backside was on fire.
'Evil! Damn evil!'
"Our Father in heaven…"
"Our Father in heaven…"
He prayed desperately, screaming the words to his God. Even as his legs trembled and threatened to give out beneath him, he didn't stop chanting.
'Just a little more. Just a little more! Evil! Get out of this body!!'
Screeech—!
Finally. The deafening sound of the abyssal waves vanished from his ears, and the spectral evil burned to ashes before his eyes.
"Huff… huff…"
Howard gasped violently for breath, his undershirt completely soaked with cold sweat, and collapsed heavily to the wooden floor. His labored, choked breathing made it seem as if he was about to pass out from cardiac arrest.
He lay frozen on the ground for a long time, unable to process the sheer impossibility of what had just happened.
Finally, a junior monk outside the prayer room noticed the loud commotion and rushed in, forcing the locked door open to help the old man up.
"...I'm alright," Howard replied reassuringly after a long, breathless silence, waving the young agent off.
After dismissing the concerned monk, he silently looked down at the dropped Bible on the floor, then up at the massive wooden cross hanging above the prayer room altar.
'God... please tell me this isn't real...'
He couldn't help but smile bitterly. Self-deception was entirely useless now. They were real. And they were extremely troublesome and deeply evil.
He recalled with lingering, primal fear the terrifying ordeal he had just experienced. If he hadn't resisted his unnatural sleepiness then, combined with the evil fish-man dragging his soul into the depths while he slept, he probably wouldn't have ever woken up...
Just thinking about the perilous, lethal situation he had narrowly survived sent fresh chills down Howard's spine and made his hair stand on end.
'This really was... the blind luck of the ignorant...'
Wait!
Howard suddenly remembered something critical. His heart tightened, and he froze in absolute shock.
Innsmouth...
His three young rookie agents were still undercover in Innsmouth! And also... that elite investigator, Shuichi Akai, had taken photos there. He might also be compromised!
At this thought, Howard's eyes immediately widened in terror and fury.
Damn it! His immediate, personal problem was solved, but the others were in incredibly deep trouble!
He still didn't know exactly what those fish-things were up to. But he had to oppose whatever his demonic adversaries wanted to do. He knew perfectly well that most of the Innsmouth residents seemed biologically "starved," eagerly trying to drag the young agents into their beds to contribute to Innsmouth's population.
'Could it be some kind of evil, genetic breeding ritual?' What would the horrific consequences be for the rookies?
Recalling the sinister, inescapable way the evil had dragged at his soul from miles away, Howard couldn't sit still any longer. He frantically reached for his secure cell phone to call Shuichi Akai.
This was a supernatural threat completely without any secular means of checks and balances! How could ordinary FBI agents with mere guns possibly solve this? Even a seasoned veteran like him had fallen prey to it remotely, meaning the concentrated evil residing within the town of Innsmouth was entirely beyond human imagination!
'Evil… This is going to be a bloodbath…'
His hands trembled violently as he dialed the emergency number.
The moment the other party answered, he roared into the receiver, completely abandoning protocol:
"Come to the church! Now! Immediately! Right now!"
Explanation? What explanation could he possibly give over an unsecured cellular line? We're in a real, demonic crisis, what explanation do you need?!
"Listen! Drop everything! Come to the church! Quickly!!"
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Give me powerstones.
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