The resurrection had worked—but not in the way Pitman intended.
What he revived wasn't his child, but a living corpse—a hollow vessel animated by malice.
The spirit inhabiting it was born from the hatred and resentment of the aborted fetuses and victims Pitman had slaughtered.
These vengeful souls, once formless and powerless, finally found a vessel when Pitman's ritual tore open the boundary between life and death.
They fused into a single entity—a spirit of hatred, bound to the reassembled corpse.
This abomination thrived on slaughter.
Every life it took strengthened it, and every soul it consumed became its eternal prisoner, trapped within the villa as a mindless wraith.
The journal's final pages were smeared with blood, the writing cut short.
Ryan narrowed his eyes.
So this was the origin of the villa's curse.
According to the diary, the evil spirit was born in this basement,its "womb."
This meant that it could not leave.
Without the basement's corrupt energy to sustain it, the spirit would fade away.
However, it could still lure people inside and feed on their souls to create more undead thralls.
The spirits Ryan had fought earlier?
They were just puppets under the control of the true monster.
Sacrifice.
Without hesitation, Ryan offered the journal to the void.
Beyond documenting the spirit's birth, the journal contained Pitman's surgical knowledge, biological research, and fragments of forbidden resurrection rites.
As the pages dissolved, Ryan couldn't help but marvel.
The doctor had been a monster, yes, but also a genius.
With nothing but medical expertise and scraps of occult lore, he'd stumbled upon a crude form of necromantic alchemy.
Given time, he might have perfected it.
It was a shame he died before he could.
Ryan scanned the empty basement, his senses sharp.
The more lives the evil spirit claimed, the stronger it grew.
After a century of feeding, its power had reached terrifying heights.
Now, the entire villa was its domain.
And yet—It hadn't attacked.
Was it afraid?
Or was it lying in wait?
As if answering his thoughts, the basement plunged into absolute darkness.
The light vanished, swallowed whole.
Ryan grinned, baring his teeth.
"There you are."
Finally.
Whoosh!!
His axe morphed back into the Chaos Chains, their jagged blades humming as they sliced through the air.
BOOM!
A single swing unleashed a wave of holy frost, freezing everything in its path.
A deafening shriek tore through the darkness, the spirit's pain ringing in Ryan's ears.
Sparks flew as the chains carved through metal shelves. The brief flashes revealed his foe: a stitched-together abomination, more beast than man, crouched in the shadows.
A stitched-together abomination, more beast than man, crouched in the shadows.
Its eyes were pitch black with no whites.
Clawed limbs poised to pounce.
A trail of blood slithered toward Ryan as if it were alive.
Then—darkness again.
CRACK!
Another swing, another burst of sparks.
This time, dozens of wraiths lunged from the darkness, their skeletal hands grasping.
Ryan laughed.
Who gave these weaklings the courage to face him?
Free offerings—why refuse?
"GROWL"
His bones cracked and his muscles tore as his body transformed.
His clothes shredded as gray fur erupted across his skin.
His vision turned red and his mind was consumed by primal bloodlust.
Werewolf form activated.
Ryan flexed his claws as chains coiled around his arms.
Holy energy clashed with his bestial nature, sizzling like acid.
"Let's see how long you last."
He licked his fangs, then—
SNAP.
One hand closed around a wraith's skull.
The spirit screamed as holy fire consumed it.
Whoosh!
Ryan moved like a phantom through the basement, tearing through it.
Claws ripped through specters and chains bisected shadows.
One by one, the wraiths were sacrificed, their essence devoured.
Within moments, the horde was gone.
Then a flicker of light.
The darkness split, revealing the cowering stitched spirit, its limbs severed by Ryan's chains.
It stared up at Ryan, terrified.
For the first time in its existence, it felt fear.
Ryan's grin widened.
"What a perfect specimen."
The spirit tried to flee.
THUNK!
A chain spear pinned it to the floor.
Ryan loomed over it, his voice a growl.
"Since you're here, why leave so soon?"
The spirit trembled.
Who was the real monster here?
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