Chapter 41 – Death Knocks (Part 4)
Watching the black haze seep into the house, Gideon Black's eyes narrowed in thought.
It was exactly as he had expected.
Earlier, he'd already suspected that this thing wasn't some ordinary demon or spirit—meaning his demon-binding array wouldn't be able to keep it out.
Inside the house.
After seeing her visitors off, Ms. Lewton walked to the stove.
Her conversation with the priest had eased her heart somewhat, and she'd made a decision—
After attending the funeral, she would resign from the school and move to another city for a fresh start.
Just as that thought took shape, a chill prickled her skin.
She took a kettle from the cabinet, filled it halfway, and set it on the stove.
A few droplets clung to the spout, so she grabbed a towel to wipe them away—then tossed the towel onto the knife rack.
But when she turned back, the polished surface of the kettle reflected a shadowy figure.
Startled, she spun around—only to find the kitchen empty.
The window was ajar, curtains billowing gently in the breeze.
"Alex? Father Black?"
Her voice echoed softly, but the living room remained silent. She shook her head, deciding it must be her imagination.
While the water boiled, she rested her eyes for a moment.
A few minutes later, the kettle whistled sharply, pulling her back to reality. She turned off the gas and poured the steaming water into a mug.
Just as she was about to sip, she glimpsed another dark shadow inside the cup.
"Aah!"
She cried out, spilling the hot water onto the floor.
"This… it's just a hallucination," she whispered to herself.
Abandoning the tea, she headed for the fridge.
"Hmm? Where's my bottle of brandy?"
She clearly remembered placing an imported Russian bottle inside earlier.
Under the bed in her bedroom lay the answer—
A bottle of strong liquor, beads of condensation sliding down its chilled surface.
And beside it… a motionless coil of black matter, staring at the bottle as if in silent conversation.
Back in the kitchen, Lewton settled for soda instead. She added ice, poured it into the mug—never noticing the tendril of blackness curling around the bottom.
A faint crack split the mug's rim.
As she carried it through the living room, the soda leaked in a steady trail.
Hearing the fizzing bubbles, she glanced down, thinking she'd just spilled it in transit. She set the mug on her computer and turned back to fetch a towel.
Droplets trickled onto the circuit board… and the black matter slithered closer—
Only to "discover" the power plug had been pulled.
It froze.
In the kitchen, Lewton grabbed the towel from the knife rack—accidentally pulling one of the knives free.
The blade skidded along the counter toward her, but because the rack was pressed against the wall, the force died before it reached her stomach—stopping just a centimeter short.
Her heart leapt into her throat. She carefully slid the knife back into place and turned to wipe the floor.
The black matter above the knife rack shivered… then seemed to grow angry, darting toward the stove.
But it couldn't ignite the burner—
A small charm rested beside it, radiating a pure protective energy.
Frustrated, it swirled toward Lewton again.
On the nearby shelf, a row of objects began to shake.
With a crash, they tumbled down toward her.
Lewton shrieked, covering her head—
But the debris was nothing more than paper towels and plush toys. Not a sharp edge in sight.
Just then, the front door burst open.
Alex rushed in, helping the shaken teacher to her feet.
From outside, Gideon immediately spotted the black mass.
"Emma—now!"
Emma clearly disliked taking orders, but she strode in anyway. Following Gideon's instructions, she hurled a bottle of twenty-year holy water.
Zzzzt…
The black matter shriveled, half of it burning away instantly. But the remainder fled through the open window.
"What… what's going on? Didn't you leave already?" Lewton stammered, utterly confused.
"Alex—get your teacher. We're going after it."
On the Way to Carter's House
During the drive, Alex quickly explained the night's events to Ms. Lewton.
Her expression was one of disbelief—
But after everything strange that had already happened tonight, doubt had begun to gnaw at her certainty.
They soon arrived at their destination and knocked on the door.
Inside, Carter was lounging with his girlfriend, Terry.
The knock pulled a scowl onto his face.
Opening the door, he found the last person he wanted to see—
That annoying kid.
He immediately moved to slam the door, but Alex blocked it with his hand and politely explained their reason for coming.
"You a toddler or something? Believing that con artist's nonsense?" Carter sneered.
"My life's mine to control—nobody can take it from me!"
He stepped forward, jabbing a fist toward Gideon in mock threat.
"Don't let me hear you spouting your crap again.
Since I'm in a good mood, I'll give you one chance—get lost!"
He kept running his mouth, oblivious to the fact that he was practically inviting danger.
Gideon, however, wasn't listening to the insults.
His gaze was fixed past Carter—
A familiar black haze had reappeared at the window, wrapping itself around a toy catapult.
A plastic ball shot from its tube, arcing into the living room.
The ball landed on the coffee table—where a kitchen knife just happened to be lying.
In the next instant, the ball struck the handle, sending the knife spinning into the air—straight toward the front door.
Carter was still ranting when the priest suddenly shoved a leather shoe into his hand and yanked him around.
The young man bristled.
"What the hell are you—"
Before he could finish, he saw the knife hurtling toward his face.
Instinct took over—he raised the shoe just in time.
Thunk.
The blade buried itself in the leather over the toe.
Heart pounding, Carter barely had time to register what happened before the priest pulled him sideways.
A split second later, a ceiling light crashed down right where he had been standing.
If not for Gideon, his skull would have been cracked open.
Emma crouched, studying the mechanism with curiosity.
Alex's eyes were wide; Lewton covered her mouth in shock.
"What… what is going on?!" Carter's voice shook—this time, the fear was real.
The priest didn't answer. He shoved something into Carter's palm.
"Hold on to this."
The young man stumbled backward into the living room.
The moment he left the doorway, the floorboards there buckled upward, exposing a row of sharp nails.
He landed hard on the ground—
And then everything in the room seemed to come alive.
Discarded pen nibs, glass cups, writhing electrical cords… all of it turned toward him, flying through the air like a swarm of predators.
Carter curled in on himself, clutching the object the priest had given him, not daring to look up.
Terry pressed herself against the table, eyes wide at the impossible scene.
And then—
Just as suddenly as it began, the onslaught stopped.
Objects hovered for a heartbeat in front of him, then dropped straight to the floor.
The wooden boards were soon pitted with dents and cracks.
For nearly a full minute the clatter continued, until silence finally returned.
Slowly, Carter raised his head.
The living room was a wreck—
And around him, in a perfect circle, lay the fallen debris, as though some invisible barrier had protected him.
It was then he understood.
Looking down, he saw his palms marked with deep red impressions from his grip.
Nestled in his hand was a small silver cross.