Chapter Text
SEPTEMBER 21ST, 1986
A FEW MILES OUTSIDE OF STERLING, CONNECTICUT
Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch'intrate.
"Surely I don't have to remind you that this is a strictly top secret assignment, Father Ward."
Father Allred's voice chimed in towards the younger priest, his hand clutching the steering wheel, glancing over with a calm expression; a contrast to John's more nervous frown.
"Yes, sir." He acknowledged a bit hesitantly, gazing out the side window. The surroundings were silent, the sky was vanta-black; the only things disturbing the uniform darkness of the night sky were the twinkling stars. The woods were a canvas of dark brown, black and pine green. An ominous combination that instilled a sense of dread in the young, inexperienced preacher.
The road ahead was faintly illuminated by headlights, although darkness still loomed, heavy and cold, the further away one looked.
"Tell me, John." Allred opened up, not taking his eyes off the road. "Is this your first exorcism?" The older priest turned for a second, looking towards John as he waited for an answer. The signs of age were clear, on his face and in his gray, combed hair. The look in his eyes hinted at a long history of working as a minister.
John shrugged and nervously responded: "Yes, sir."
"I see." Father Allred nodded, turning back to watch the road. "Well, some piece of advice; just follow everything that I say, exactly as I say. Don't let anything you may see or hear fool you. Not everything will be what it claims to be."
John nodded, acknowledging, his hand going to the Bible in his lap, grasping it and holding it close to his chest, a bit nervously.
"Are you afraid?" Allred asked, noticing John's hesitant behaviour.
"...a bit, I suppose..." John nodded in confirmation, his fingers fidgeting slightly, curling tighter around the book.
"I see. It's normal to be nervous about it, or even scared, especially on your first assignment of this type." Allred turned to John, looking at him with a reassuring, collected gaze that seemed to sort of calm John's fears. "I assure you, though; as long as everything goes according to plan, there should be nothing to worry about."
He patted John on the shoulder lightly, turning back to watch the road, his hand lightly pulling the steering wheel to the left as the car took a turn. "It's going to be alright, Father Ward."
John nodded, feeling more reassured, although a remainder of uncertainty still remained within him, as he gazed out the window. The car slowed down and eventually came to a complete stop, as Allred twisted the car keys and pulled them out. Outside, a path cut through the dark woods, leading up to a gray two-story house in the forest, the windows illuminated with orange, warm light from inside.
"We're here." Allred stated, opening the door and climbing out of the car. John stared at the house for a moment, seeing two faint silhouettes walk through behind the windows. He hesitated as he grabbed the car door handle, before opening the door and getting out, quickly catching up with Allred.
The priests walked along the dirt path through the forest, passing by a red mailbox, inscribed with "Martin Family" in white, cursive letters. John warily scanned the surroundings, his eyes darting across the pine woods. From a first glance, the forest looked...unfriendly. Large, dark, eerie. Something about it just was so, so terrifying.
Thankfully, John didn't have to worry much about the dark forest, as they soon reached the front door of the Martin family's residence. Allred raised his hand: knock, knock.
A few short seconds passed, and the door opened half-way. A middle-aged man with slightly grayed dark brown hair and prescription glasses looked at the two priests. His expression and body language were rather unsure and anxious.
"Good evening..." The man sighed. "You must be from the...Church, correct?"
"Yes. Good evening to you too, Mr. Martin. I'm Father Allred." He pointed to himself, then turning towards John: "This is my assistant, Father Ward."
"I see...pleasure to meet you gentlemen. Erh, come in." Mr. Martin opened the door wider, letting the two ministers in. The inside of the Martin residence was rather cozy and friendly, compared to the dense, eerie forest surrounding it. There was a red carpet on the wooden floor below, an olive green couch, some shelves on the wall, oil paintings and family photos. In front of the church, a wooden stand with an old-looking television set on it. In the wall opposite the couch was an unlit fireplace.
A woman around the same age as Mr. Martin, with lighter brown hair in a bob and a dark green sweater, looked towards the priests and greeted them. "Oh, good evening, ministers."
"Good evening." Allred responded in kind. "Mrs. Martin, correct?"
"Oh, just call me Cindy." The woman smiled softly, although still with a nervous edge to her expression, shaking the reverend's hand. "Reverend Allred, right? I believe I've heard of you from a few friends. Shall I make some tea or coffee?"
"No, thank you, Mrs. Martin. Matters like these require haste. We mustn't waste much time. So, shall we?" Allred asked, turning to Mr. Martin.
"Of course." Cindy responded, before turning to her husband. "Bob. Show them the way, please."
Bob nodded, snapping out of his brief trance. "Err, right. She's downstairs, in the basement." He looked to the side, a bit embarrassed with himself. "I had to tie her up...urgh. I hope you can handle this, ministers."
"Of course." Father Allred laid a hand upon Mr. Martin in a reassuring gesture. "Don't be afraid, Mr. Martin. The Lord's servants are here."
John looked over the walls of the living room for a few moments, noticing one family photo in particular; one featuring Mr. and Mrs. Martin, dressed in more formal attire, and a young girl with straight hair. Writing in a corner dated the photo to January 1983.
"John." Allred said, turned towards John, who looks over, zoning back into the moment. "Let's go."
John nodded, and continued on with Allred and the Martins. The four walked over towards a dark brown door, as Bob dug into hiss pocket, fishing out a chain of keys, fitting one into the keyhole of the door and twisting, until the door opened. Behind it, a staircase downwards into the dark basement of the Martin family's residence.
Bob reached towards a light switch on the wall and flicked it, lights flickering on downstairs, as the four made their way to the basement. John cautiously stepped downwards, his heart pounding slightly as he struggled to imagine to himself what he'd see as soon as he turned the corner. A monstrosity? A decrepit thing that can barely even be considered human anymore? He shuddered at the thought of it, but, alas, the moment he rounded the corner...
All he saw was...well, a person. She looked...fairly human. Not at all like he'd expected, although there was something really off with the figure tied up and bound to a wooden chair in the middle of the basement. A relatively tall teenage girl, around 15 or 16 years old, with messy, long, straight dark brown hair, in a long, violet dress with a dark purple floral pattern. She's slightly hunched forward, head tilted down, hair fallen over her face like a veil of dark oak brown. She was completely motionless; she didn't even respond to the priests' presence or her parents' either. It's as if she was in a sort of dream, a trance. John didn't dare go anywhere near her, instinctively taking a few small steps back.
"Hello, Amy?" Father Allred broke the silence, trying to speak to the girl, slightly raised tone. But no response came from Amy. She just sat, nearly completely motionless, on the chair. The Martins watched with equal worry, Cindy by her husband's side, and John standing aside from Allred, a bit cautiously looking around and trying to find any kind of object to fixate on. Anything other than the figure sat on the chair. Just looking at it was enough to instill a sense of dread in John.
Allred sighed, and tried again; "Amy. Can you hear me? Are you all right?" Allred took a bit of a daring step forwards, his hand slowly inching towards the crucifix on his belt, resting on it. Yet again, Amy didn't react.
Allred turned to John, nodding, a signal that John recognized. He took his Bible and opened it, sifting through the pages until he reached the exorcism prayer. He read a bit of it to himself, under his breath, before turning to Mr. and Mrs. Martin, waving them off to his hand. The two hurriedly walked back upstairs, leaving John and Allred alone, with Amy, in the basement.
The older priest cleared his throat loudly. Once, twice, and a third time; each time, no response at all. Not even a glance; it was as if the girl wasn't even aware of the priests' presence. Allred nodded and spoke, his voice booming through the basement:
"RESPICE AD ME, DAEMONIUM."
John's eyes widened for a moment, as he saw the formerly unresponsive Amy...slightly shift. Her head tilted upwards, face still veiled by dark brown hair. One wide-open, hazel eye was visible between strands of hair. It looked — no, — glared straight at Father Allred, as if it could peer right into his soul. The reverend, as calm and collected as he was, stepped back slightly upon seeing the first reaction from the girl.
Amy — or, rather, whatever pretended to be her — tilted her head to the side, eerily. Her gaze turned to the apprentice besides Allred, and John could see something faintly resembling a...smile? A smile on the girl's face. Not a warm one, though. It's not the kind of expression any normal teenager — or rather, any normal person — should have.
"Hello, priest." 'Amy' responded finally; the first words she spoke. But, the way they came out of her mouth was...strange. She seemed way, way too calm. Too collected. Too composed. And the way the last word was said seemed...eerily condescending. Mocking, even.
"..." Allred turned to John, then back to face the possessed. "What do you want?"
The grin on the girl's face grew wider. "Why do you want to know?"
"I'll repeat the question; what do you want, demon?" Allred's right hand fully grasped the crucifix on his belt.
The possessed stared, the smile on her face contorting further; a mad, unnatural expression that had John ever so slightly trembling. He averted his gaze, trying to bury his face in the Bible in his hands, but a voice called out to him.
"John..."
He turned, and saw the one in the chair staring right at him. His heart sank, heavy with dread, as he backed up further, and turned to Father Allred, wanting to speak up--
The possessed started to laugh. At first, just a chuckle, that then devolved into maniacal laughter, interrupting John. Amy started to shift more in the chair, kicking her legs forwards and backwards as she laughed. It was as if whatever spirit had decided to possess this poor maiden, was now laughing at John for his nervousness. Mocking him.
Frustrated, he gripped the Bible tighter. Allred took off his crucifix, holding it up, pacing around the room, before turning to John and yelling: "Don't just stand there, Ward! Recite the prayer of exorcism!"
John's fingers fumbled with the book, as he opened it back to the page with the exorcism prayer, his eyes darting to the first verse. He stammered a bit, before clearing his throat:
"Exorcizo te, creatura salis. Adjuro te, maledicte diabole." As he read the first verse, the girl shook in the chair, kicking around and trying to break free. Allred held the crucifix upwards, raised towards Amy, who visibly tried to back up from it, letting out a sound akin to an inhuman, almost animalistic screech of sorts, that slightly disturbed John, as he continued to read through the rest of the prayer.
The second verse: "Adjuro te, serpens, discedas ab hoc virgo!"
The third: "Exorcizo te per Deum vivum, phantasma!"
The fourth: "En nomine Jesu Christi, qui ventures est judicare vivas et mortuos--"
"MOTHER! MOOTHERRR!" The possessed shrieked in pain, as footsteps came down the stairs. Cindy peeked her head from behind the corner, gasping.
Allred turned and motioned for John. "Ward, get her out of here! It's going to use the girl to afflict them!"
John looked towards the reverend, nervously asking: "A-are you sure, sir?"
"Yes, everything's under control, John! Just GO!" Allred commanded. The possessed was shaking so violently to the point of convulsions, trying hard to break out of her restraints, shrieking and screaming.
John looked from Allred to the possessed teenager, and then to the latter's mother, walking over and guiding her back upstairs. "Come on, Mrs. Martin, you can't be here right now."
"B-but, my daughter--" Cindy attempted to protest.
"Your daughter could be a danger to you, Mrs. Martin, you NEED to go upstairs, NOW."
Cindy and John walked back upstairs, with Cindy taking a seat on the couch nervously, and John closing the basement door, inhuman screams echoing from downstairs.
Bob worriedly stared to the basement door, then to the young priest, walking up. "Is...is everything under control down there?"
"I hope so, Mr. Martin. Father Allred said he can handle it." John confirmed, albeit with slight hesitancy.
"...right." Bob looks back to the door. "That...that thing down there? That's not my daughter. That can't be."
John looked to the door with a bit of worry in his gaze. "... I-I'm sure everything's going to be fine, Mr. Martin. This is just..." He warily stared back. Why did the basement go silent?
Bob peeked around John. "Is there something wrong, Mr. Ward?"
"...er. I-I don't know. I'll go check. Just... stay here and pray for Amy, okay?" John raises a hand, telling Bob and Cindy to stay put where they are, before turning and walking back to the basement door. He took a deep breath...and opened the door.
Slowly walking downwards, the first thing he noticed was that...Amy was nowhere to be seen. The chair was knocked down, the restraints were snapped in half...and Father Allred was laid on the ground, unmoving.
"... Father Allred?" John asked, hesitantly, taking another step forward.
Allred's head turned to face up towards John. Then, John noticed that... Father Allred's eye sockets were hollow. His eyes were gone. Simply put, they were not there anymore.
"It's going to be alright, Father Ward." Allred's mouth moved as he spoke.
John found himself backing up a slight bit, disturbed and confused. He felt a strange, staticky droning fill his ears for a moment. The crucifix at his waist got warmer. Then, he blinked.
The second he reopened his eyes, another person was in the room again. Amy. Sat besides Allred's body, one hand under the priest's jaw, his head in her lap, his body still lifeless. A cruel, unnatural smile on her face.
"It's going to be alright, Father Ward." The possessed spoke, mimicking Allred's voice as her hand moved Allred's jaw. Blood poured from the older reverend's empty eye sockets.
John backed up, eyes widened, as his hand reached for the crucifix at his waist--
Suddenly, the figure was right in front of him-
...and everything went black.
Eventually, John reopened his eyes to...darkness. He slowly picked himself up, heavily getting back up to his feet. He looked around the basement. The lights were off, the room was cast into a dark fog. He couldn't tell where anything was in front of him.
John slowly walked to a wall and pressed his hands up to it, fumbling around in the dark, trying to find the light switch, until...
Flick! The lightbulb flickered on, a blue light over the basement. Somewhere in the middle, a wooden chair knocked to the ground, and an elderly man in a gray Catholic priest's cassock; his eyes gouged out, his neck bent into an unnatural angle. His body was completely and utterly devoid of any signs of life.
Somewhere next to the body was a wooden crucifix. His own crucifix, that he'd dropped on the floor when he blacked out. John walked over and picked it up, slowly but surely, before turning to Father Allred's lifeless corpse.
"...God rest his soul..." John solemnly stated to himself, trying to whisper as silently as possible, as he turned to look at the staircase leading back up to the ground floor. He remembered what he had to do; maybe he could prevent the Martins from death, and the poor Amy from becoming a puppet of a callous demon.
"..." John's fingers clenched around the crucifix. "I'm coming, Amy. Please, just hang in there..." He muttered to himself, as he walked up the stairs, his pace cautious. His hand went to the door handle and slowly turned it...
The door creaked open into the main hall, the lights still on. But there was something different; no one seemed to be present. Atleast, he couldn't see anybody yet. John looked from one side to the other, before stepping out of the staircase and closing the basement door behind him. He carefully stepped along and into the living room...
He...stopped. Frozen in place, his eyes wide with shock. A feeling of extreme fear settled deep in John's mind as he stared over the gruesome scene laid in front of him; the corpses of the Martin parents, bloodied and limp, hanging from the ceiling by their own guts. Their faces were mutilated beyond recognition. Bob's glasses were smashed on the ground.
John took a shaky step back, his left hand going up to his mouth in utter shock. He felt himself retch slightly, but he coaxed himself into holding himself back, as he tried to avert his eyes from the gruesome fate of Mr. and Mrs. Martin. He noticed something else besides that; the fireplace was burning. But...it wasn't before. And there weren't any logs in there, right? John walked closer to the fireplace and bent over slightly, looking inside...and he recognized a familiar-looking tome inside the fireplace, the pages and the cover alight. His Bible.
John swallowed air, fearfully backing up from the fireplace as he turned around...and unwillingly locked eyes with the only other person alive in the house. Her dress wasn't an uniform purple anymore; stains of crimson were scattered across it. Her hands were soaked in the same crimson, and still dripping with it. The possessed's head tilted, staring right at John. This time, though, she wasn't smiling. She just...sort of glared at him blankly. He could feel the crucifix warming up, getting hotter to the touch, with the presence of the possessed in the room, and that same strange droning noise came back.
"...A-Amy?" John, with a trembling voice, clearly scared of the other person. "Did...did you..."
No response.
"... let's just... let's just go back downstairs, a-all right?" John asked, trying to appeal to... whatever humanity remained in Amy. "Please."
"NON POSSUM IRE." The possessed replied blankly in Latin.
"You- you need to, Amy. You need to get better. Please, just come with me. I'm not- I'm not trying to harm you. If- If you still hear me, please, just...--"
She cut him off, her voice mocking and scornful: "And what about Meredith? Did she get better?"
John stopped, taken aback by the mention...of his mother? What did she even have to do with this? "...how do you...?"
No reply.
John's eyes fearfully darted across the empty house, before going back to Amy. God, that smile was back. His heart started pounding harder and faster than before, as he felt his palms sweat profusely.
"Are you afraid?" The possessed asked, mouth contorted into a wicked, insane smile. "You seem VERY afraid, John."
John tried to calm himself down. He breathed in and out, inhaling, exhaling, before turning to the possessed, raising his crucifix towards her.
"Go on, then. Point your little stick at me, you clown." Another mocking remark from the possessed, as she took a step. John could feel the hair on the back of his head standing straight up, a shiver running through him.
"NOBODY'S COMING, JOHN."
He gunned it for the staircase. Footsteps rapid behind him, but he didn't dare to look back. He just kept on running, turning sharp to the right into a room and SLAMMING the door shut, holding it closed with his body pressed against it. He turned and scanned the room, eyes darting around frantically. A bookshelf, a desk, a window, a mirror on a wall above a single bed, and a large chest in a corner of the room. The walls are violet, imprinted with a floral pattern of a darker purple, much like Amy's dress. This must be her room.
John grabs one side of the bookshelf and pulls it against the door, grunting from effort, as he wipes some sweat off his brow. He looked towards the chest, walking over and kneeling down in front of it. He grabs the lid with both hands and slowly lifts it...
Inside, a myriad of old toys and other forgotten, dusty belongings; dolls, LEGO sets, figurines, old movie cassettes, an old purple 1960s landline with a ripped cord...and a candleholder. A long candleholder that seemed hefty enough to be used as a weapon.
John picked up the candleholder and got up from the ground, turning to the door. He walks up to the wall, slowly, listening in... nothing. He pulls the bookshelf aside and opens the door slowly, stepping out into the hall. One look to the left, one to the right to assure himself...
He walked down the stairs and into the living room...he looked 'round. The corpses were still there. No sign of anyone else...could she have just ran off? He turns to look at the front door; it's still locked. The windows are locked, as well. None of them seem broken, either...maybe she's downstairs? But...why would she be downstairs?
Then, John heard a sound behind him. He turned around and froze. She was staring at him, hiding around a corner, a smug expression on her face, almost like the demon was mocking him even more. Her hands gripped the corner, as she smirked...then, suddenly...
Her eyes rolled back. She began to gurgle and make choking sounds, like something was stuck in her windpipe. John uncomfortably looked away, but his expression turned from slight disgust to full-on horror, as he saw a crimson arm emerge from the possessed Amy's mouth. The decrepit, clawed hand slowly waved at him, before swiping down across the light switch--
...and everything was dark. Pitch black. Horrified, John stared around himself, desperation taking him over. His hope was slowly slipping away.
"H-HELLO?!" He called out into the darkness. "IS ANYBODY THERE?! FATHER ALLRED?! MR. MARTIN?! A-AMY?? HELLO??? C-CAN...CAN SOMEBODY- ANYBODY HEAR ME?!"
Allred was dead. So was Mr. Martin and Mrs. Martin. And Amy... well, now he wasn't sure he could save Amy anymore. He backed up, mouth open wide, his jaw trembling fearfully as he looked around frantically, head full of thoughts.
Oh God. Oh my God. Oh my God, it's doomed. It's all gone to shit- I-I-I can't do this. I- I can't. I can't do this. I can't do this. I can't do this
He slumped against the wall, dropping the candleholder on the wall. His face was buried in his palms. He thought he was doomed. The walls of the house slowly disappeared, one by one, until there was nothing left around the priest other than...a void. An empty, black void. And then, a flash of light. And a surreal, almost ethereal voice that he never heard before:
"I HEAR THEE."
He looked upwards...and a being of light stood in front. God? An angel?
"...a-are you...God?" He asked, shaky and unsure. He wasn't sure about anything.
"ME? I AM BUT A SERVANT OF HIS GRACE." The Angel responded. "JOHN, SON OF MAN. THOU ART IN GREAT PERIL. I CAN DELIVER THEE FROM DEATH."
John's eyes lit up as he heard the last sentence. "Oh, please. Please, please, please get me the hell out of here. I-I can't deal with this anymore. It's too much. Too much for me..."
"I SEE. AND WHAT OF THE GIRL?"
"I-I don't...I don't know. I just... I just want to go home. I'm... I'm so afraid. I...I think she's already lost."
"ART THOU ABSOLUTELY SURE?"
"I-I am, God damn it."
"THOU MUST UNDERSTAND, IF I DELIVER THEE FROM THIS FORSAKEN PLACE, THE GIRL TOO WILL BE FORSAKEN. HER FATE, SEALED UPON /THINE/ HEAD."
John hesitated for a moment. "I-I really don't...I really don't care, I-...I just want to go home."
"SWEAR ON IT."
John opened his mouth...but nothing came out. Not a word. He just couldn't. All he had to say was 'I swear', and he'd be free from this nightmare. Free from that demon's terror...but...
No, what the hell am I thinking? I-I can't just let her suffer like that...I-I have to save her. I have to. I-I promised. I made a promise. I can't screw this up.
John shook his head. "N-Nevermind. I'm... I'm not giving up. I-I have to save her."
The Angel nodded solemnly. "UNDERSTOOD. TREAD CAREFULLY, PREACHER."
And with that, he was back to the real world. But this time, he wasn't scared anymore. With newfound strength and restored faith, John rose to his feet and grabbed the candleholder, looking around him, as he slowly treaded across the bloodied carpet and the wooden floor. He slowly muttered a prayer to himself; the recital of Psalm 91 was pretty much burnt into his brain after having to recite it so many times in his youth.
"I will say of the Lord; He is my refuge, and my fortress." A few steps up the stairs, as he looked behind him briefly.
"My God," Another step up and he's on the upper floor. "in Him I will trust."
He looks behind him and forwards, opening the door to Amy's bedroom. "I shall not be afraid of the terror in the night," The door is closed shut. "nor the evil that walketh in darkness."
"Because I have made the Lord my refuge,"
Raising the candleholder higher. Footsteps from beyond the door.
"Because I have set my love upon Him,"
Another footstep. A few knocks on the door.
"therefore He WILL deliver me. I shall call upon Him, and He WILL answer me."
The door knob turns...and the door creaks open.
"He will be with me in trouble. He will deliver me and He will honor me. Amen..." Finishing the Psalm, he makes a cross gesture to himself as he slowly takes some steps outside the doorway, looking to the left...and to the right.
Nobody. Nothing. Not a peep.
...but the floor behind him creaked.
He twisted himself around and SWUNG the candleholder.
It connects!
The candleholder smacks into the possessed Amy's face, sending her stumbling back with a screech of pain. John drops the candleholder and pulls up his crucifix, holding it towards Amy, who shields her face while screaming and wailing, inhuman sounds echoing through the room, cornered against the desk. The lights start violently flickering as John begins to recite the last verse of the exorcism prayer:
"IN NOMINE PATRIS, ET FILI, ET SPIRITUS SANCTI," The possessed dragged her fingers across her face in agony, leaving scratch marks, as the lightbulb flickered more akin to a strobe light.
"AMEN!"
BANG! The lightbulb exploded, and the light went out. A thud was heard, as the silhouette fell to the ground in the darkness. John dropped the crucifix onto the ground, panting and almost hyperventilating, his body almost stricken down by effort. He fell to a knee besides Amy's unmoving body. He observed her briefly, hesitating to get near her initially. Her chest was rising and falling somewhat more regularly, and her breathing was normal.
John exhaled in relief, as he looked out the window. Nothing. Not a police car in sight. The woods were just as silent as they were already, and the street, just as much.
Then, he felt someone shift behind him...
He immediately snapped around and realized he dropped his crucifix; but, looking over at Amy, he realized... he'd done it. He'd managed the exorcism...solo. Somehow. The girl shifted slightly, groaning drowsily as she shifted on her side.
After a while, she slowly sat up and rubbed her eyes, looking around and noticing John...
"...mhh... who...who are you?"
"..." John stood silent for a bit. "I-I'm... John. Ward. John Ward."
Amy looked over John's attire, then down at herself. She notices the blood on her dress, and looks at her own hands. Her eyes widen in horror. "...wh...what...What happened? Wh-what did...what did I...oh my God. Oh my God, I-I...I killed somebody, didn't I--...oh God..."
She raised her hands to her face, burying it into her palms. The ringing in John's ears faded slowly, and he could hear the faint sound of a police siren closing in. Blue and red lights became clearer and flashed from outside the window.
He turned to Amy and slid closer, before just...gently pulling her into a hug. He felt tears hit his shoulder, as he gently patted the formerly-possessed Amy on the back.
"No, no, you didn't. You didn't. You...you were..." He sighs. "I-I can't explain it to you right now, but you didn't do it. It's not your fault, Amy."
"It-it's not? B-bullshit..."
"No, no, no, really." John looked out the window. "...right. Look." He pulled away slightly and looked right into Amy's eyes. "Look at me. You're not responsible for this, okay? I-I'll explain later. It might sound strange, but... just... don't beat yourself up about it right now. Okay?"
Amy nodded slowly, eyes red from crying. "O-okay..."
He nods, before getting up, slowly, and lending a hand to the girl. "Come on. Can you walk?" He pulls her up as she nods, one arm around her shoulders to support her as they slowly limp downstairs, and outside, where they are greeted by a few dozen police officers and paramedics.
The night goes on, just as black as it was before. But nothing, and nothing, will ever be the same again.
Although the story of the murders made the newspaper, nobody ever figured out the truth behind it. Both John Ward and Amy Martin were admitted to mental institutions following their arrests, but they were ultimately released around March of 1987. The murders were attributed to the Martins' daughter, but she denies having any recollection of the gruesome events that happened on that fateful September night.
In the meantime, reports of paranormal happenings and brutal murders around Sterling, Connecticut, pop up every day. Rumours of cults and demons perpetuating vicious cycles and rituals spread like wildfire.
An ill omen has been cast over the town, and it seems to get worse with every day...