"Get down!" Edward's mental voice thundered.
Charles dropped to the floor, hands clamped over his ears. The next instant, an explosion tore through the air, the blast wave slamming into him brutally. Splinters and wood fragments whirled past in a storm of debris. Thick black smoke mushroomed upward, stinging his throat.
As the echo faded, Charles lifted his head, squinting through the swirling dust. Where the doorway had once been sealed, now there was only shattered wood, open to the world outside.
"It worked!" Andrew exclaimed, excitement in his tone. "We can—"
But his words died in his throat. From the darkness, blood-red sinews erupted, blocking their path once more.
"No…" Joseph's voice wavered, heavy with despair.
At that moment, a strange sound rose from the stairs. They turned to see the blood-splattered young woman, dressed in white, descending slowly. Veins the color of fresh gore twisted like legs and arms beneath her to support her body, letting her move in grotesque, unnatural ways.
Behind her followed two corpses with disturbingly similar features to her own, along with the undead dog and two other male cadavers. They trailed after her as though part of a macabre procession.
The woman's hollow eyes locked onto them. Her pale lips moved in words they could not understand, each syllable vibrating the air around her.
Charles, panicking, slashed wildly at the bloody sinews barricading the door. His blade left not a single mark. Meanwhile, Andrew fired his revolver, bullet after bullet striking the woman dead center. Yet she appeared unharmed by each shot. The remaining rounds tore into the corpses at her side, mangling flesh and spilling foul blood, but even dismembered, those bodies continued to twitch and move.
Joseph mustered all his strength, shouting out a command: "Stop! Don't move!" His voice held the power of an Ascendant, clashing with hers. She and her undead thralls lurched, but her resistance was intense. Joseph gritted his teeth, blood trickling from his nose as sweat drenched him. He looked as pale as a corpse himself, but he forced himself to keep exerting his power, buying them precious seconds.
In that desperate moment, Edward decided on one final gamble. He drew in every last scrap of energy, ignoring the searing pain ripping through his body. He launched his consciousness into the young woman's mind.
Typically, Edward found it easy to slip into another's thoughts and alter their memories. But this time was different. The instant he touched her mind, it felt like plunging into a boundless void. A thousand images and emotions slammed into him all at once, scraping against his psyche like a sandstorm flaying skin. The entity controlling her exuded a terrifying force, a swirling maelstrom of negative emotions: rage, sorrow, a million howling voices.
This was the power of something far beyond normal understanding—an entity, a presence. Even Edward felt fear. It was like standing at the center of a colossal vortex, that savage aura threatening to crush his spirit. His entire being shuddered with dread. But Edward was no ordinary man, and he refused to surrender.
With each passing second, Edward's injuries worsened. Bright red blood seeped from his eyes, ears, nostrils, and mouth, as though his body was vainly trying to purge some terrible poison. The torment assaulted him as if a million maggots gnawed his flesh from within. Every bone seemed on the verge of fracturing. His vision blurred, world spinning in chaotic colors. Sound meshed into a cacophony. At times he felt himself dissolving into emptiness.
Yet he clung to his goal: rewriting the woman's perception of them from intruders to visiting relatives. Each attempt triggered a vicious backlash, ramping up the pain. He felt his mind fracturing, reassembling in ways he had never imagined. But still, he fought on—this was their last chance.
Finally, Edward sensed a shift: the threads of her memory loosened. Their faces in her mind changed from threats to something more familiar, the fierce hate and fury waning in flickers of warmth. The hideous, alien force slackened for a moment. But in that same instant, Edward felt his body nearing its own collapse. His grip on consciousness slipping, he struggled to share one last thought with the team.
Flee… now… he managed, before his legs gave out and he collapsed to the floor.
The crimson threads blocking the doorway began to recede, letting air from outside rush in. Charles and Andrew wasted no time, shoving aside the sinews and sprinting out into the open. Joseph was the last to leave, half-dragging Edward's limp form.
They bolted away from the house, hearts pounding with fear that the woman might follow. But she stayed put, neither chasing nor calling after them.
Once they had gone some distance, a rush of relief hit them like a crashing wave. It was as if the invisible chain strangling their bodies and minds snapped loose—but the toll of injury and exhaustion was brutal. Charles's head spun, his legs gave out, and he stumbled face-first into the muddy ground, passing out. He lay there, breath rasping irregularly.
The falling rain washed blood from Charles's face, merging with dark mud to form a reddish-brown puddle. The mingled stench of iron and soaked earth hung in the air.
Andrew hurried to Charles's side, rolling him over so he wouldn't choke on the sludge. Charles's mouth and nose dribbled watery mud. Andrew used trembling hands to clear away the filth, his own adrenaline still jolting with leftover terror.
Edward was in equally dire shape—skin cold as death. Bright blood still oozed from his ears, nose, and the corners of his mouth. Joseph did his best to support Edward, scanning around anxiously.
"Need… to call the Suppression unit…" Edward croaked, lips quivering. "Tell them… we're dealing… with an Ascendant… contracted to… the Great-Life rank… Danger… ex—" He trailed off, sinking into unconsciousness.
Joseph gritted his teeth, half-carrying Edward. His legs shook so badly he could hardly stand. Still, he dragged Edward toward the special unit's waiting carriage a short distance away.
Reaching it at last, they heaved Edward and Charles's inert forms inside, then climbed in themselves. Joseph rasped at the driver: "Back… to the unit… quick… call the Suppression unit…"
Immediately, the driver snapped the reins, and the carriage jolted into motion, forging through the darkness and unrelenting rain. Inside, Joseph positioned Edward next to Charles, both men unresponsive.
Edward's eyes flickered open once more, gazing weakly back at that terrible house, before closing again, leaving only the faint hope that the Suppression squad would arrive in time to contain the evil within before it seeped out into the world beyond.
Hoofbeats thundered across the slick, stony road. Joseph snatched up a small paper meant for urgent communication. Despite trembling fingers, he managed to scribble a short message:
"Encounter with an Ascendant contracted to a Great-Life-level entity. Extreme danger. Request immediate Suppression support."
He ignited it with a tiny flame of magic. The slip of paper blazed up, turning to ash in seconds, gray smoke dissipating into the carriage's dim interior. Even that small act drained the last of Joseph's stamina. He slumped, panting.
Andrew peered through the rain-swept window. The streets were all but invisible in the downpour, looming shapes of houses and trees slipping by in the gloom. He turned back to his comrades. Their faces were ghastly pale, lined with exhaustion.
"How long until we reach the department?" Andrew asked the driver, anxiety chewing at him.
Without turning, the driver replied, eyes fixed on the road, "Half an hour, if nothing slows us."
"Not good enough. We have to go faster," Andrew insisted, voice tight. Then he glanced at Edward and Charles again, unconscious and battered.
Joseph sat with eyes shut, wrestling to stay lucid. Once they got back, he would need to give a full report. And there would be no rest before they prepared for whatever might come next—especially if the horror they had just escaped began to stir beyond that haunted house.
In silence, the carriage pressed on, wheels grinding the wet pavement. Rain drummed persistently overhead. Each occupant prayed in their own way that they would make it back to the unit safely, and the Suppression team would reach that house soon—before the horror there could spread its malign influence any further.