Chapter 65 – Sadie's Surprise
If Sadie wasn't mistaken… the priest had just used a ritual exorcism.
From what she knew, this was one of the Church's highest-level rites of banishment.
It required sacred relics carefully arranged, incantations repeated many times, and days of ceaseless effort.
The officiant needed immense holy power and would often have to pause and rest before continuing.
Only then could the ritual be completed.
Such a method was reserved for the most powerful of spirits and demons. And those capable of conducting it were usually clerics of high standing within the Church.
But when Sadie studied Gideon Black closely, she noticed something strange.
He wore no emblem of the Exorcist Academy. He carried no insignia of a bishop's rank.
Did I… see wrong?
She recalled the scene again. He had seemed to banish the evil with just one attempt. It was nothing like the exhausting rites she knew.
Even so, his methods were far from ordinary.
In the West—and in Sadie's home state of Louisiana—exorcism was never simple.
Most hunters still relied on old-fashioned firearms, weapons honed by decades of bloody trial and error, proven effective against monstrous demons.
With custom ammunition, these relic guns could hold the line. But their limited range meant hunters always had to fight up close.
It was why the profession was so deadly, and why demon hunters usually hunted in groups.
A veteran hunter with years of experience was revered in the community. And any hunter who could banish evil alone—young or old—earned respect from all.
Sadie herself was one such hunter.
But those traditions only worked against creatures that could be physically destroyed.
When faced with incorporeal threats—spirits, wraiths, the dead—Sadie was as helpless as anyone.
In such cases, hunters turned to the tribes.
These peoples had lived on the land for centuries, carrying ancient rites and chants passed from generation to generation. They had fought spirits countless times, paying blood and sacrifice to guard the soil of their ancestors.
But tribal rituals came with their own price—sacrifices, irreversible tolls on the shaman's body.
The shared history of hunters and tribes was a ballad of blood and tears, sung across the land through the ages.
So when Sadie saw Gideon banish evil with such ease—her shock was beyond words.
"Who… exactly are you?" she asked.
Just then, Hank also noticed the unfamiliar woman in his home.
"I…"
Sadie suddenly realized she had barged in uninvited. Not only was it rude—it was against state law.
She cursed herself inwardly. She had been so focused on the ritual, she hadn't thought.
She looked to Gideon for help, her face tense.
"Your friend?" Hank asked, turning to the priest.
"Don't know her," Gideon replied flatly.
"This lady—who are you here to see?"
"You!!"
Sadie ground her teeth, resisting the urge to reach for her gun.
"I'm here investigating the disappearance of Sister Sasha. This priest and I share the same goal."
She blurted it out quickly—before Hank mistook her for a trespasser and handed her over to the sheriff.
Hank gave her a long, suspicious look, eyes flicking between the priest and the stranger.
"Visitors, Hank?"
A new voice came from the doorway.
"Avina!" Hank's face lit up.
His wife stepped inside, carrying a bag of food, confusion in her eyes.
She wore a simple gray-white dress, its hem and sleeves smudged with dirt. Her short crimson hair framed skin pale as ivory, giving her an otherworldly beauty.
"Jode's healed!" Hank said breathlessly, sharing the news.
Avina's eyes filled instantly with tears. She rushed to their son's room.
There, she found Jode sleeping peacefully, wounds closed, breath steady.
Unable to hold back, she clung to her husband in relief.
In the midst of her embrace, a flyer slipped from her pocket, fluttering to the floor.
Gideon bent down and picked it up.
"Lerris Plasma Donation Center — Earn money in just a few hours."
His brow furrowed.
He looked at the food Avina had brought—beef, canned goods, luxuries for this household.
Then he recalled the frailty in her face when she entered.
A thought struck him.
"Father, thank you," Avina said, stepping forward gratefully.
Then her eyes fell on the flyer in Gideon's hand.
Panic flashed in them.
She glanced at Hank, saw he hadn't noticed, then turned desperately toward Gideon—wordlessly begging him to keep her secret.
"It's nothing," Gideon said gently. "This is but a priest's duty."
Gideon gave a faint smile and, without a word, slipped the flyer back into Avina's hand.
She mouthed a silent thank you.
"Mr. Hank," Gideon said evenly, "when do we set out?"
"Right away, if you like," Hank replied, glancing fondly at his wife. "But if you're not in too much of a hurry… we'd be honored if you'd stay for a meal. Avina's cooking is excellent—it's the least we can do to thank you."
Gideon considered briefly, then nodded. He had little need for food, but for some reason, today he found himself with an appetite.
Sadie was also invited to the table.
Before dinner, Gideon performed an exorcism for Avina as well. Though painful, she endured it, and at last the wooden house—after so long drowned in despair—was filled with laughter again.
When it came time to leave, Gideon set an envelope on the table.
Inside was some money, along with a postpartum recovery diet.
The latter was no trivial note—it carried the wisdom of centuries, a remedy to restore blood and spirit.
As for the money—Gideon was no saint. But when a small kindness cost him nothing, he would not withhold it.
The hardships of Hank's family had reminded him: for him, exorcism might be ordinary, almost routine. But for ordinary people, it could mean their entire fate was rewritten.
Clack.
A soft sound broke his thoughts.
He looked up to see Sadie drop her own envelope onto the table.
"Don't think you're the only one who noticed," she said, tilting her head.
Gideon raised a brow. His opinion of the demon huntress shifted—if only slightly.
Not long after, Hank readied himself. He drove Gideon and Sadie into the forest.
Sadie, under the pretext of being "extra muscle," insisted on joining.
Gideon thought for a moment, then agreed. If trouble came, it might be useful to have another hand.
---
Half an hour later, the truck rolled to a halt near the edge of the logging fields. Beyond this point, the forest grew too thick—no path wide enough for vehicles.
"This is it," Hank said, pointing through the windshield. "Last time we only made it this far. Deeper in, it's all wild. Hardly anyone goes there."
"This will do. You should head back, Mr. Hank," Gideon replied calmly.
Hank blinked, surprised. "I can guide you. The woods are dangerous—you could lose your way."
Gideon smiled and patted his shoulder.
"Your kindness is noted. But if you come with us, you'll be in danger."
At that, Hank understood. After a moment, he nodded. "I see. Then take care."
He shared a few survival tips for the forest, then bid them farewell.
"How do we proceed, Father?" Sadie asked.
But Gideon didn't answer right away. His gaze was fixed on the dark trees ahead. His expression hardened.
"Before we decide… we deal with what's coming."
His eyes narrowed.
From within the forest, several evil presences crept closer.
Sadie frowned, puzzled—until, moments later, she too felt it. A crawling, suffocating malice.
Her hand went to the revolver at her hip.
The woods stirred.
From the trunk of a tree, a pair of arms suddenly slid out, clasping the bark as though a man were embracing it.
Then, below that—another pair.
And another.
Tap-tap-tap.
The arms began to move in eerie rhythm, clambering along the bark like legs.
The sound echoed unnaturally, as though something monstrous were walking with hands instead of feet.
Sadie's skin prickled, her entire body seized with dread.
And they were not alone. Two more of the abominations slithered into view, all halting mid-climb as though they had noticed the humans.
For a moment, the forest fell into a dreadful silence.