Chapter 129 — Silas's Commission
The moment Gideon read through the commission details, he couldn't help but sigh inwardly — classic.
A family buys a suspiciously cheap house, strange things happen after they move in, no one believes the person who experiences it…
It was the blueprint of every American horror trope. Eighty percent of horror stories followed this exact pattern.
"Judging from this, the demon involved shouldn't be too powerful," Gideon muttered, rubbing his chin.
In stories like this, the antagonistic spirit's abilities were always the same — teleportation, mental interference, telekinesis. He could practically guess the spirit's entire playbook with his eyes closed.
But then he remembered: Silas had said the Church had classified this as a 'Danger-Level' commission.
Could there be something deeper at play?
Gideon continued reading.
"According to the report filed by local priest Theodore Turner, the farm property in question has changed owners twice over the last twenty years.
Each family moved in together as a household, and each time, the entire family eventually perished under mysterious circumstances.
The perpetrators remain unidentified.
Based on investigation, it's suspected that a 'Bound Spirit' may inhabit the property. However, no direct evidence of such a spirit has been recorded.
Exorcists are advised to conduct independent investigation and determine the means of revealing the entity's presence."
Gideon exhaled slowly. There was a particular four-letter word starting with "F" that he wanted to say right then.
Independent investigation?
Shouldn't that kind of thing be done before writing the report?!
The Church was getting lazy — dangerously lazy. In a world crawling with demons and spirits, that kind of negligence was a death sentence.
And the unlucky ones to pay the price were always the exorcists sent on the mission.
Still, the mention of a Bound Spirit caught his interest. He'd read about such entities in the Church's forbidden texts.
A regular haunting was simple — the spirit merely attached itself to a building.
But a Bound Spirit was different. The house and the land around it were part of its very body.
That made them far more dangerous. A Bound Spirit governed the "rules" of its territory, and stepping inside its domain could be fatal without even realizing it.
Those "rules" were usually invisible to human senses — only specific triggers could make the entity manifest.
In this case, the file mentioned one such trigger: "moving in as a family."
Typical. A classic American horror setup.
Then Gideon blinked, a spark of recognition crossing his eyes.
"Wait a minute… this is from The Messengers!" he murmured, snapping his fingers.
But something was off. In the original story, it had just been a simple case of spiritual possession mixed with family tragedy — standard Hollywood fare. No "Bound Spirit" lore, no territorial curse.
"This incident must've changed somehow," Gideon thought, frowning.
Then another problem hit him.
According to the report, the Solomon family had gone bankrupt before moving there…
But if they were broke — how were they paying the exorcism fee?
When Gideon asked Silas, the latter replied matter-of-factly,
"Oh, the Church is covering the cost."
Ah, the Church—finally generous for once. In their ongoing campaign to recruit believers across America, they had apparently decided to start footing the bill for haunted house exorcisms.
Gideon shrugged. "How noble of them," he muttered.
"So," Silas said, breaking his thoughts. "Have you considered it?"
"Well…" Gideon leaned back, pretending to hesitate. "It's in a remote location… and dealing with a Bound Spirit is risky…"
Silas's heart skipped. Damn! He'd forgotten — Gideon had a young assistant to look after, and North Dakota was far from Philadelphia.
"I understand," Silas said quickly. "I'll try another shop."
Gideon blinked. "Understand what?"
"You're… declining, aren't you?"
"Who said anything about declining?"
Silas froze in confusion.
"I mean," Gideon said, tapping the counter, "you'll just have to pay more."
A few minutes later, the contract was signed.
Even Bente eventually agreed. Though he disliked the idea of working with Silas, he didn't want to lose favor with the priest — or his access to that miraculous holy oil.
Per the contract, Judy would accompany Gideon as his assistant.
Over the past few days, Gideon had noticed the girl's potential — especially her natural caution.
She memorized his "safety rules" easily and had a knack for adapting them in unpredictable situations.
That pleased him. He was already planning to train her as his deputy — not just because Lorraine had asked him to, but also because his duties as a priest often took him out into the community.
And when that happened, he needed someone trustworthy to mind the shop.
Naturally, Lorraine had no objections.
She even canceled her scheduled theology class at the church so her daughter could stay and focus under Father Gideon's care.
When the couple departed, Gideon handed Lorraine a small cloth pouch containing amulets and holy water he had personally crafted.
He hadn't planned to, but Ed had made an unfortunate remark right before leaving—
"When Dad gets back from this exorcism, I'll take you to the amusement park."
Gideon had almost lunged to cover the man's mouth, but it was already too late.
In a world like this, saying something that blatantly "raised a death flag" was practically the same as signing your own death certificate.
So, he had prepared those protective charms just in case. The last thing he wanted was to end up saddled with an orphan—it would draw far too much attention.
With the appointed date of the commission approaching, the group prepared to depart that morning.
Before leaving, Gideon meticulously checked all the supplies and even prepared a matching charm pouch for Judy.
The sight of the two—one tall, one small—wearing nearly identical outfits drew whispers from the academy students nearby.
"Are we sure those two aren't actually father and daughter?"
"I mean… look at them. They totally could be."
"What part of them looks alike?"
"I meant—they're both good-looking."
"Wait… did the shopkeeper give you free holy oil too?"
The comment killed the conversation instantly. The trio exchanged awkward glances before Bente and Zal turned away, pretending to admire the scenery. Silas crossed his arms and walked off to the corner, his expression sour—like the moment of harmony had never existed at all.
Exorcism Academy.
"Before we go, we need to stop by the Commission Hall and get the Church insignia from Professor Flora Mody," Silas explained as he led the way.
"With that, we'll be able to request help from the local parish once we arrive."
"Professor Flora's back?" Bente asked in surprise. "Didn't her husband, Wynn Mody, die a few months ago during an exorcism? I thought she'd resigned from teaching."
Zal replied, "I heard the commission involved a cursed demon statue—apparently tied to some Middle Eastern deity."
Silas nodded solemnly. "Yes. To prevent the god's descent, Professor Wynn sacrificed his life to perform the Holy Rite."
"He turned his own blood into sacred energy to purge the summoning ritual?" Bente gasped.
Gideon, listening beside them, frowned deeply.
He hadn't known the Church sanctioned such a ritual—
and somehow, it didn't sound holy at all.
As they chatted, they reached a tall building. Inside the Commission Hall, it didn't take long to find Sister Flora Mody.
The nun was pale-skinned, with calm, light green eyes.
When she heard that they planned to take on a commission involving a potential Bound Spirit, her expression immediately hardened.
"No," she said firmly. "You can't accept that mission."