Chapter 55 – Community Class
The community activity room.
"…When a family member shows sudden changes in personality, the first thing to rule out is psychological causes."
"…Evil spirits cannot directly possess a human body. They first weaken the mind, then strike."
"…And keeping a handy weapon by your bedside is always a wise choice. I personally recommend a baseball bat."
Gideon finished writing on the whiteboard, then turned back to face the audience.
A handful of middle-aged men and women sat before him—residents of the community, and also his congregation.
Since opening his outreach program, Gideon had insisted on spreading practical methods of defense against spirits. With danger on the rise, his flock needed to be able to protect themselves.
A woman in the front row raised her hand.
"Father Gideon, after hearing your advice, I adopted two more puppies last week. My husband has already started training them."
"That's excellent, Mrs. Hill!" Gideon praised warmly. "Dogs can sense disturbances earlier than we can. That vigilance may save your household."
He clapped his hands lightly. "Let's give her some applause."
The congregation murmured approval, smiling and encouraging Mrs. Hill for her initiative.
"Oh—thank you, everyone!" she replied, bowing slightly, a bright smile on her face.
At the back of the room, Rebecca and Bret exchanged a look of surprise.
This church gathering was… not like any they had attended before.
Even Rebecca felt she was genuinely learning something.
Their sense of preparedness is strong, she thought.
Her mind flicked back to the previous night, when she had dared to chase that shadow by herself. Now, in hindsight, it felt reckless.
Straightening in her seat, she listened even more intently.
"When faced with phenomena that defy explanation, most people will be skeptical. That's when we must stay calm, guiding the person with questions, rather than forcing answers."
Rebecca nodded hard.
She remembered how, after strange things started happening at home, she had confided in a friend—only to be dismissed with a wave of the hand. Just tired. Seeing things.
Thankfully, Bret had believed her all along.
Gideon's tone grew serious.
"Entering a house suspected of spirit activity without preparation is extremely dangerous. Never do it lightly."
Rebecca's face drained of color. Today, she and Bret had planned to visit her mother's house.
Her mother and younger brother had both been acting strangely—so strangely that Rebecca suspected something was wrong with the home itself.
They had only stopped here because they saw a flyer for the community class while shopping.
On impulse, she had dragged Bret along. After all, the idea of spirits was too irrational to discuss openly. Perhaps here, within the church, she could find real answers.
Half an hour later, the session drew to a close.
"That's all for today's safety briefing," Gideon said with a genial smile. "If anyone wishes to purchase protective charms, please head to the sign-in desk."
A community staff member stepped forward to guide them.
But just as the crowd began to disperse, a voice spoke up beside Rebecca.
"Excuse me."
Gideon turned his head. The newcomers were a young couple.
The woman looked to be in her twenties, with long brown hair and delicate features. The man wore his hair a little long as well, ordinary in appearance but clearly protective of her.
Gideon didn't recognize either face. He already knew every new parishioner by name—these two weren't on any invitation list.
But the fact that they had walked across the warding circle hidden in the grass outside, passed the consecrated relics fixed into the doorway, and sat this long beneath the sacred effigy mounted above the room…
That alone proved they weren't possessed.
The couple held up a flyer, explaining that they had simply followed the invitation to attend.
He ushered the two into a side consultation room. Naturally, he set down cups of holy water—vintage, twenty years old.
Only after watching both cups emptied did Gideon allow himself a thin smile.
"Miss Rebecca, please describe for me, in detail, what you've seen."
Rebecca shifted, the lingering brine still on her tongue, then nodded.
"It started about four nights ago…"
Her family history spilled out in fragments.
Her father had died early. Her mother remarried, giving birth to a boy—Martin, Rebecca's half-brother, more than a decade younger. Soon after, that second husband died mysteriously, leaving her mother to raise the boy alone.
Resentful of the remarriage, Rebecca had moved out young, living independently for years.
Then four nights ago, the school called. They couldn't reach her mother. Martin seemed unwell. Would Rebecca come pick him up?
Naturally, she agreed.
But when she arrived at her mother's door, Martin had refused to go inside.
"He said Mom talks to someone called Diana every night," Rebecca whispered, trembling. "But… he's never seen her."
The name made her shiver. She remembered nightmares from childhood—nightmares about someone called Diana.
Inside the house, the lights were off. The place reeked of neglect. Her mother looked drained, fragile, her mind clearly slipping. She had stopped treatment long ago.
Rebecca had taken Martin home with her that night, despite her mother's protest.
And that was when the haunting began.
In the dark, she had seen her: a woman with twisted limbs lurking at the edges of the room, crouched just beyond the reach of the lamp.
Every time Rebecca flicked the light on, the figure vanished. But as soon as the room plunged into shadow again… the thing crept closer.
Until the last time, when she switched the lamp off—
The woman lunged.
Rebecca barely saved herself, slamming the light back on at the final moment.
Gideon sat back, both impressed and exasperated.
"So, you realized something was wrong… and yet you kept switching the lamp on and off? Deliberately putting yourself in the worst possible position?"
He arched a brow. "Tell me—are electricity rates in your neighborhood really that expensive?"
Rebecca flushed, speechless. She didn't know why she had done it. Curiosity, perhaps. But now, hearing it aloud, she knew it had been recklessly stupid.
Gideon checked his watch. Ten minutes had passed since they drank the holy water—enough time to rule out possession.
He mentally reviewed her description. The creature matched a specific type: a spirit from Lights Out, the kind that feeds on fear, manipulating perception through darkness.
He himself still remembered the first time he read that case file. Even after closing the report, even knowing it wasn't "real," he had lain awake, staring into the shadows of his room. The thought lingered:
Turn off the light, and it comes closer.
Could you really switch the lights off, alone in the dark?
Could you really walk down the empty hallway without looking back?
Could you really trust there wasn't someone following right behind you?
At the time, he had survived only by clinging to a childish rule: if I hide under the blanket, the monster can't touch me.
Now, he leaned forward.
"Miss Rebecca, are you asking me to intervene?"
"…Yes." Her voice was small, uncertain. "Will my mother be in danger?"
"That depends," Gideon replied carefully. "If the spirit hasn't been attached long, she may only suffer physical weakness. But if it deepens…" He let the words trail.
Rebecca bit her lip, remembering her mother's hollow eyes, Martin's terror.
Bret caught her gaze and gave a silent nod of encouragement.
Rebecca drew a breath, then straightened.
"Father Gideon," she said with resolve, "I want to hire you."
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