A little over two hours later, at Alpena County Regional Airport.
This small airport serving the local community and business travellers received a small business jet. Seen off by the crew, Rai and Madison left the plane with a backpack holding the golden arm, walked out of the airport, rented a car, and drove toward downtown Alpena under the guidance of the navigation.
Ten minutes later, they arrived without a hitch.
Alpena County has only twenty to thirty thousand people in total; excluding the townships, the downtown population is just over ten thousand.
Strolling here, you can cover "downtown" in just a few blocks.
Although Fiona had divined the presence of the golden arm's evil spirit, the distance was too great for a precise fix, so the exact spot was still unclear and would have to be investigated by Rai and Madison.
Because they'd left early, it was still a little before noon.
To resolve the spirit as soon as possible and avoid the curse falling again at night, the two had no interest in sightseeing through a town with a very different feel from New Orleans; they moved quickly.
Rai went into a convenience store, first bought a local map, and, while chatting casually with the owner at the register, asked offhand, "Boss, do you have any strange local legends around here?"
"Legends? The kind you use to scare kids?"
The plump, middle-aged proprietor glanced at Rai and at Madison beside him. Taking them for a couple from the city looking for fun in the sticks, he chuckled, "Slashers, cults, forest ghosts, aliens… whichever rural town you go to, they'll tell you pretty much the same kinds of scary stories."
The owner added deliberately, "But sometimes they're not all made up. Careful now, young folks like you from the big city, soft-skinned and good-looking, are exactly the kind of targets those wicked things prefer."
Flipping idly through the goods, Madison scoffed, "Let them come. I'll twist them into a ball and kick them."
"Your girlfriend? Fiery," the owner said to Rai, surprised and with a double meaning.
Rai smiled without replying.
Then he asked, "Besides those well-worn tales, is there anything newer? For example, I heard someone say there's a one-armed.."
"That's enough!"
Before Rai could finish, the owner cut him off loudly. His face suddenly darkened. "If you want to keep enjoying your time with your girlfriend, stop asking. If I were you, I'd drive a few loops around town, have a few glasses of the local stuff, buy some handicrafts, maybe have a romp somewhere secluded and then get out. Don't go to your death with 'adventure games.'"
Rai's eyes flickered. He wanted to ask more, but the owner had already shown them firmly to the door.
Back on the street, Rai said to Madison, "Looks like there really is something here. That female corpse, or rather, the evil spirit's existence, has already spooked the locals."
"That means we came to the right place," Madison said.
Rai frowned a little. "Judging from the owner's attitude, the locals don't seem willing to tell the truth."
"Relax, not everyone keeps secrets. Watch me," Madison said, full of confidence.
"Watch you? How?" Rai asked, curious.
Madison pointed to the map in Rai's hand. "First, you're going to help me find the nearest downtown bar."
…
Multicoloured lights flashed; aggressive metal pulsed through the room.
Even though it was still daytime, when Rai and Madison reached the closest bar downtown, they could already see plenty of men and women inside letting themselves go.
"Pretty average."
Thriving in this environment, Madison first rated the bar, then pointed at a cluster of young people not far away and, with confidence, arched a brow at Rai. "Ten minutes. I can get them to tell me who they fantasised about the first time they touched themselves, let alone anything else."
Rai immediately made a "be my guest" gesture.
Madison strode over to the group and called out, "Hey, boys, got anything to drink here?"
The group froze, then stared straight at her.
As a Hollywood star, Madison's dress, looks, and figure were top-tier.
These were small-town kids who hadn't gotten into college and would likely spend most of their lives here; they didn't have the perspective or the resistance.
Very quickly, Madison slipped into their circle; her request for free drinks passed unanimously.
"We're not little boys!" one of them blurted, already eager.
"Oh yeah? You still look like little birds who haven't grown their feathers."
That one line had them all riled up.
And so, when faced with Madison's follow-up "prove it" questions, they competed to answer, one after another.
That included the ten-minute boast she'd tossed Rai.
After shooting Rai across the room, a "how's that?" look, and seeing the conversation going so smoothly, Madison naturally steered it to questions about the golden arm.
At that, the young men, already tipsy, words running like freight trains, suddenly stalled.
Fortunately, a youth named Mike slapped the table and scoffed, "What's there to hide? It's just a ghost story. Those old folks are scared stiff, but that doesn't mean I am. Bunch of cowards."
Hearing that, Madison gave Mike a frankly admiring look.
Flattered, he launched into the golden arm tale he knew.
Not to be outdone for the beauty's attention, the others forgot their earlier scruples and, like peacocks fanning their tails, chimed in one by one.
The golden arm's origin unfolded.
The protagonist, a woman named Heather, had once been the prettiest girl in Alpena County.
She had a husband who doted on her.
Even though she spent money with both hands, he never complained.
Just as they were living happily, disaster struck.
A logging accident severed Heather's right arm.
For a beauty like Heather, it was intolerable.
At her pleading, her husband mortgaged and borrowed to have a golden arm made for her.
Even after she developed a life-threatening pneumoconiosis from the gold dust, Heather refused to take it off. Before she died, she demanded that her husband bury the golden arm with her.
He agreed.
But it didn't last. Pressured by crushing debt, he went back on his word: he dug up his wife's grave and took the golden arm.
"And the result…"
At this point, Mike tossed back a drink and, excited, deliberately lowered his voice to something more chilling.
"The next day, when the neighbours sensed something was wrong and came to the husband's house, they were horrified to find him dead, lying in bed, nestled up against his wife, who was supposed to be long buried in her coffin, and the golden arm lay right between the two of them."
"That one's an old story."
Apparently unhappy that Mike had soaked up too much of Madison's attention, one of his buddies raised his voice. With Madison's eyes on him, he went on, excited, "Back then, the frightened neighbours reburied the couple's golden arm and all, and for years things stayed quiet. But a while ago, a crew of grave robbers came through and stole the arm from the coffin. That's why folks say Heather's spirit now prowls at night, howling."
"Yeah! People say they hear heavy footsteps out there after dark, and those awful screams."
"Plenty of hunting dogs and poultry have been slit open, guts eaten clean out."
"And a few people who went out to check never came back."
"Even priests couldn't do anything."
"…"
With the supernatural, fear comes tangled with curiosity. If they'd been cautious at first, the mix of alcohol, beauty, and a crowd loosened their tongues.
"Hah! Evil spirits, killers, only those old fogies who believe every rumour take that seriously. It's the modern day. Even if a demon showed up, I could drop it with one shot."
"Who's brave enough to go and find out the truth? We'll either expose the trick or bring the 'spirit' back, we'll either be heroes or expose the trick!"
Needing to show off now that Madison's attention had drifted, Mike slapped the table and made his dare. Fired up (and drunk), the others chimed in:
"Let's go! Whoever doesn't is a coward!"
"We're the bravest, of course, we're going!"
"…"
Left to themselves, these amped-up kids would absolutely end up like a Hollywood horror flick, one by one writing their own obituaries.
Keeping her distance from the one who'd just joked about "getting with" the ghost, Madison ignored their boasts. Having gathered enough, she asked, "Where do the stories say the spirit comes from?"
"Green Township, under Alpena County. That's where Heather's buried," someone answered.
Another, bleary-eyed, suddenly pointed at a middle-aged Black man across the room. "That guy used to be a hired hand for Heather's husband. He knows more."
"Thanks." Madison glanced at the man, then waved goodbye to the now-spent group.
"Don't go! It's still early, come hang out."
Reeking of booze, Mike lurched to block her path, hand outstretched to force the beauty to stay.
Madison flicked her wrist; Mike stumbled, as if he had tripped, and his face hit the floor. Blood poured from his forehead. While his friends rushed to help him up, Madison stood up and, not really caring, asked, "By the way, I hear Heather was the prettiest girl around. Was she as pretty as I?"
"No," said a man who'd once seen Heather, staring blankly.
"Good." In a fine mood, Madison turned and left.
Rejoining Rai, she relayed what she'd learned.
Rai looked over at the solitary drinker, the man said to have been a long-term hired hand of the golden-arm couple, and rubbed his chin. "Let's confirm it with him."
Rai strode up to the man and opened with, "Hey there. I'm Agent Smith with the Pentagon's Anomalous Incidents Unit. I've got a few questions."
He flashed a palm-sized "badge" in front of the man, then tucked it away, actually a commemorative pin from the Hotel Monteleone.
To fool a rural logger who'd spent his life in a small town, someone who likely didn't even know how many departments the county had, let alone the Pentagon, wasn't hard.
Sure enough, though puzzled, the man didn't argue. He kept drinking, uninterested. "What do you want?"
"Your name, sir."
"Andy."
"Mr. Andy, sorry to bother you. I need to ask about the golden arm."
Clink!
At Rai's words, Andy's hand jerked; his glass fell and shattered.
Ignoring the shards, Andy stared at Rai with bloodshot eyes and warned, terrified, "Don't talk about that!"
Rai kept smiling. "Trust me, we're here to resolve it. You reported it to the police, right? They couldn't handle it, so this got sent upstairs. They sent us."
"You?" Andy looked Rai up and down, young enough to be his son, and doubted, "This isn't some prank. Can you handle it? Even priests came back empty-handed."
"Different specialities," Rai said confidently. "Priests are mainly responsible for talking to God. When it comes to evil spirits, you want professionals like us."
He glanced at the ring on Andy's left hand. "Don't worry, we know more about this than you think. We don't treat it like a fake scare. The sooner it's solved, the better for your family and your kids. I'm right, aren't I?"
Maybe it was Rai's confidence, maybe the thought of his family; Andy wavered, then gritted his teeth. "Ask. I'll tell you everything."
"Good."
Rai began his questions.
At first, Andy's account matched what Madison had picked up, only more detailed. After the theft of the golden arm, he added new pieces:
"We all knew what that arm meant to Heather. Even knowing there was a fortune in gold down there, none of us dared covet it. Then some damned thieves who knows how they heard stole it out of the grave. If not for them, Heather wouldn't have risen from her rest. Green Township wouldn't be like this now," Andy said bitterly.
"What's it like?" Rai asked.
"At night," Andy said, voice shaking, "Heather rises back into her body and prowls the town in rage. At first, a few unbelieving young guys went to check. Then they never came back. Not one."
"Whatever you do, don't go out at night."
"What about daytime? Is it dangerous during the day?" Rai asked.
"Daytime… is better, but there's still a kind of nameless dread," Andy said, still shaken. "Families with the means have moved away for now. The only ones gritting our teeth and staying are people like us who'd go hungry if we left."
"We did try to fix it. Since those thieves couldn't be caught for the time being, folks in town pooled money to cast a duplicate golden arm. But when we worked up the nerve to take the new arm to Heather's grave, we found her body was already gone."
At that, Andy knocked back a whiskey, then continued:
"We were scared, but we left the new arm there anyway, thinking she'd see it when she came back. Only it disappointed everyone, the footsteps and the howling kept on that night. The next day we went to look: the new arm was still there, broken into pieces."
"Heather wouldn't accept it. The only thing she wants is the real golden arm."
Rai glanced at the backpack holding the genuine arm and said evenly, "So, ever since this started, Heather's body has been missing? Even in the daytime?"
"Yes! Just like back then when she took an axe to her husband for taking the arm, only this time she'll never rest."
"I understand."
Rai asked a few more questions about where Heather was buried, her former home, and places she liked when she was alive. When he'd learned enough, he took his leave under Andy's expectant gaze.
…
"We can confirm it now, the spirit cursing us is Heather. She has an actual body, just not visible in daylight," Rai said when he rejoined Madison. "At night, per Andy, she's far more dangerous. And we're already marked by the curse, so our best bet is to find her in daylight and end it for good."
"Evil spirits rarely stray far from their old haunts," Madison agreed. "Her former home, the grave, places she loved in daylight, check them carefully, and we'll get something."
"If it comes to it, there's always this," Rai said, patting the backpack. "If Heather learns we're bringing back the real golden arm, she'll 'gratefully' show herself."
"Fair," Madison said with a curl of her lip. "Let's go now. Finish it and get out of here. Rude locals, ugly decor, bad booze, this place is a bore."
Rai nodded.
They left the bar and were just about to get in the car when a deputy in a tan uniform and cowboy hat stepped up, stopping them. "You two look unfamiliar. Just passing through or…?"
With so few people in Alpena County, outsiders stand out. As a matter of safety, local officers usually ask a few questions.
Rai kept quiet and let Madison's charm do the work.
"I heard Alpena County's scenery is lovely," Madison said with an easy smile. "My boyfriend and I are here to do a little sightseeing…"
The deputy relaxed and warmed at once. "Hope you make some beautiful memories here, ma'am."
As they left, he handed Madison a card, saying to call if they needed anything.
Watching the cruiser roll away, Madison flicked the card aside, got in, and said, "Let's go."
Rai started the engine. The tire rolled over the card as they headed for Green Township.
…
Wrapped in sugar maples and red oaks, Green Township would look like a fine spot for camping and vacations on the surface. When Rai and Madison drove in, what they saw was desolate and cold. Now and then, a lone figure crossed their view, hurrying along with a frightened look, paying no attention to strangers.
Words are pale; only seeing it makes you really feel what Andy meant by a town ravaged by a spirit.
With solid intel in hand, they didn't bother the residents. They drove straight to their first target, Heather's grave.
Even by day, the cemetery, lined with rows of headstones, felt ominous.
They got out. Rai's face tightened; Madison, too, shed her earlier ease and turned wholly serious. Fiona had taught them what to do, but after being cursed once already and now hunting the spirit itself, there was no room for sloppiness.
At the grave the townspeople had rebuilt for Heather, the earth behind the stone had been dug open; the coffin lay exposed, and its occupant was long gone.
"See anything?" Rai asked.
Madison didn't have second sight, but a witch's senses let her pick up traces others wouldn't. She scanned the grave, frowning. "Same aura as the cursed corpse we fought, stronger here. But right now, it's not here."
"Not here? Then it's time for my method."
Unwilling to wait for nightfall, Rai unzipped the backpack, took out the golden arm, and waved it as he called out,
"Hey! Ms. Heather! I brought your golden arm, come and get it!"
Cold wind swept the leaves across the cemetery.
Minutes passed. Nothing.
"Looks like it really is a ways off right now," Rai said, lowering the arm. "I thought it'd pop up with a whoosh."
"In daylight, spirits are usually weaker," Madison said. "Since it hasn't left the township, its range is limited. If it's not at the grave, we check her old house next."
"Right."
Rai repacked the arm and started the car again.
Before long, a dust-choked house that looked long-abandoned came into view, Heather's former home.
After the husband's corpse was found hacked to death in the bed, with Heather's dead body beside him, clutching the golden arm, no one had dared to take the place or even approach it. It had sat empty ever since.
The engine cut off.
Rai and Madison got out, pushed open the dusty door, and stepped inside.
Rai was about to pull the golden arm out again when a familiar, rasping voice sounded:
"-ssss… my… golden… arm!"
"So it really is here!"
Rai was startled first, then delighted. At last, they had found the real thing.
"Madison!"
"Got it!"
Knowing exactly what Rai meant, Madison ran back through the exorcism chant in her head, ready to cast the moment the real thing showed itself.
"Hsss… give… back… my… golden… arm…"
Heather's roar drew closer and closer. Heavy footsteps thudded in their ears.
Rai was about to pinpoint the direction when..
Crack!
The floorboards beneath them split. His pupils tightened; before he could speak, he snatched Madison up and dove forward.
A heartbeat later, another crack, a razor-edged cleave ripped a huge gash through the spot they'd just occupied. Had they still been standing there, they'd have lost both feet.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
In a few breaths, the gashes widened across the floor. Soon, the all-too-familiar female corpse clawed up from below. Unlike before, the one-armed corpse was gripping a long-handled axe, its blade smeared with dried blood.
"Give… back… my golden arm!!!"
Heather's blood-filmed eyes locked straight onto Rai, or rather, onto the golden arm in his backpack. The heavy footsteps struck again; axe in hand, she charged him, face twisted with fury.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Rai opened fire. The bullets couldn't kill Heather, but they could check her advance. Brass clattered across the floor as the impacts drove her a step at a time backwards.
In that gap, exactly as planned, Madison spread her hands and began to recite the exorcism chant.
Unseen by ordinary eyes, with each line she spoke, the radiance of her spirit rippled outward. The corpse shuddered as if an invisible hand were hauling it toward some unknown darkness; furious, terrified howls tore out of its throat.
Heather struggled wildly. Madison, too, bore the backlash; the further she got in the chant, the harder it was to force the words out.
The whole room heaved ear-splitting shrieks, the cadence of witchcraft, heavy overlapping phantoms, a relentless battering of invisible shockwaves.
All of it at once.
Fortunately, Rai had awakened a measure of spirituality; without it, the sight alone would have dropped him cold. Taking it in at a glance, he still had the presence of mind to snatch up a chipped old baseball bat, push through the vertigo, rush Heather, and lay into her with heavy swings.
At first, it was just rotten flesh spattering no real effect. Then Rai changed tactics and hammered at her legs.
Crack!
Her knee gave way with a loud snap. Heather was pulled by the chant; she lost her balance and dropped to one knee, breaking the stalemate.
Madison's voice rose; Heather's condition worsened. Rai moved to press the advantage.
A needle-edged shriek ripped from Heather's mouth. Going all in, she whipped her intact left arm; the axe knifed past Rai like an arrow, hurtling straight at Madison.
The air popped. Seeing that blade coming, Madison's chant cut off; at the last instant, a flick of her will sent the axe skimming past. Cold sweat broke across her brow.
Then the roaring crashed back in, no longer bound by the chant, Heather clamped her left hand on the bat as Rai swung again. He strained to wrench it free and found her strength even greater than he'd thought. Even by day, her true form was far stronger than the cursed shade they'd faced before.
As the bat was about to be torn away, Rai suddenly let go. Heather staggered back. He yanked the pistol again and pumped round after round into her, forcing her to give ground.
"Madison…"
A slicing whistle cut him off. The corpse hurled the bat straight back at him. Rai rolled hard and got clear.
Heather no longer spared him a glance. For the first time, she set aside her fixation on the golden arm and locked onto Madison instead. In this woman, she felt a force that truly threatened her; she had to remove it.
Step… step… step…
Rai's crack to the knee hadn't slowed her. She drove at Madison with impossible speed.
By now, Madison had no mind to recite anything word-for-word. Heart pounding, she thrust out her palm, and her telekinetic force exploded like a tornado.
With a sharp whoosh, Heather's body flew backwards and dropped squarely into the gap the axe had opened in the floor. A heavy thud, and she fell through. She did not climb back out.
The first floor fell quiet.
Panting, Madison kept her eyes on the floorboards, ready for a rotten hand to lance up at any second.
"Careful, Madison, she'll probably target you first," Rai called as he scrambled up. "Get up on the sofa gives you a buffer."
Madison lifted her foot to step up when a black, rotting hand shot from beneath and clamped her ankle in talon-like fingers.
Then..
Boom!
With a scream, Madison dropped straight down and vanished.
"Shit!"
Rai lunged to the gap and leaned, about to look in..
Out of nowhere, fire suddenly burst from the ground. He jumped back, almost getting burned, and then, surprisingly, he smiled.
When the flames eased for a beat, he thrust his arm down. "Madison!"
A slender hand locked onto his. Rai hauled upward.
Little dirty and battered, but essentially unharmed, Madison came up over the edge.
Under suffocating pressure, gifted witches often awaken new powers. Madison did just that.
Put simply, the Salem witches are sorceresses with magical bloodlines. They don't need to grind spells day and night; they only need to dig out the potential they haven't yet tapped. Among them, the Supreme is the most innately gifted.
Madison wasn't a Supreme, but her talent easily ranked near the top. Faced with life and death, she awakened another of the Seven Wonders [pyrokinesis], right after telekinesis.
"You okay?" Rai asked quickly.
"I'm fine." Madison glanced at the flames still burning below, fear fading into excitement.
Crack!
The floor split again. Having learned their lesson, Rai and Madison had already backed off.
A few breaths later, Heather crawled back up, reeking of scorched flesh, uglier and more grotesque than before.
She was about to hurl herself at them again when Madison stepped forward in open disdain and said coldly, "Disgusting old hag, go to hell."
Whoom
Madison's gaze fixed on Heather, and the corpse burst into flames once more. The blaze wasn't as fierce as Fiona's had been, but with Madison's sustained output, Heather could only writhe and shriek.
As Heather's body kept melting in the fire, Madison flashed Rai a confident smile. "Looks like we won't need the exorcism after all."
She was proven wrong a heartbeat later.
A razor-edged shriek ripped from Heather's mouth. The next instant, her body collapsed by its own will, crumbling to ash that snuffed the nearby flames. From that ash rose a spectral figure, the true form of Heather: a one-armed woman in her thirties, pretty-featured yet twisted with malice.
A chill wind howled. The room's temperature plunged. The real Heather had arrived.
Battle-hardened now, Madison moved to strike without Rai's prompt, only for Heather to vanish in a blink.
Cold air licked the back of Madison's neck. She turned on guard.
Suddenly, a hideous face was right in front of her.
"Ah!"
Anyone would startle at that distance; being a witch didn't make Madison immune. Her face went white, and before she could react, Heather surged straight into her.
Possession.
Madison's golden hair writhed like snakes without a breeze. Black veins crawled across her beautiful face. Filthy, unintelligible syllables poured from her mouth, the sound alone making the air feel polluted.
"What the f…!" Rai swore despite himself, frozen for a beat. It happened too fast.
There was no time to think. He grabbed Madison by the shoulders and shouted in her ear:
"Madison, hold on to yourself! Don't let it rattle you!
"This is your body, your turf! You're aiming to be a Supreme, how can you lose to some stray ghost?"
Possession is more a battle of souls and of will than anything else. Normally, an evil spirit softens a target up first: spooks them, grinds down their resolve, then moves in for a high chance of success.
But Heather was cornered. She couldn't afford that prep; she had to force it.
Madison, however, wasn't an ordinary person. The first hit caught her off guard, but she steadied fast and pushed back. Rai's shouts only stoked her fire.
"Think about Hermès! Think Chanel! Think Louis Vuitton! Lipsticks and handbags, perfume and necklaces, watches and heels, Madison, are you willing to lose all of that?
"And your Hollywood dream is to stay a washed-up actress forever?
"Or end up as ugly and foul as Heather? No man will look at you!"
Rai didn't reach for the cliché of "love conquers all." He went straight for what truly drove her.
It worked.
A long, ripping cry tore from Madison's mouth. An invisible shockwave burst outward from her. Rai stepped back just in time to see Heather's shade thinner, shakier than before, wrenched out of Madison and flung clear.
"My… golden arm…"
Down to her last strength, Heather lunged at Rai, desperate to use his body to reclaim her arm.
Even without a body, she was fast. Rai moved to dodge and felt her slam into him.
Before panic could rise, she bolted out of him just as fast, more grievously wounded than before, terrified.
For a creature like that to feel fear was unimaginable.
Rai flicked his attention inward to the Grimoire of the Eternal Prison. When Heather tried to enter him, the book had twitched just a page-corner lift and blasted her. Clearly, the resident volume had no patience for foreign things drawing near.
Surprised and pleased, Rai snapped back to the room.
After two failed possessions, they barely needed to act. Heather was coming apart on her own. Not noticing what had just happened, Madison saw the state her enemy was in and resumed the exorcism without hesitation.
This time, nothing interrupted her.
Heather's wail turned to a fading moan. Her outline thinned, then thinned again.
As she was about to be dragged from the world, the Grimoire stirred. Pages opened; a streak of light that only Rai could see lifted off Heather and sank into the book.
[Ding!]
[An anomaly has been contained. The Grimoire has been updated.]
[First objective complete.]
At the Grimoire's message, Rai let out a long breath.
Finally over.
Not only was the Golden Arm spectre resolved, but the ten-day containment mission that had hung over his head, stealing his sleep, was done, at least for now.
The first step is always the hardest. With one success under his belt, the second and third should come easier.
With Heather gone, the curse lifted.
Task done, Madison's first instinct wasn't to sigh with relief; it was to whip out the compact mirror she always carried and study her face. Once she confirmed she was still as dangerously pretty as ever, she finally exhaled.
"The ugly hag's back in hell. Rai, let's find a place to wash up. I'm filthy," she said, eyeing her designer outfit, now a mess from the fight.
Rai didn't argue. He was even dirtier than she was.
Heather's house had been unoccupied for ages, no water, no power. They left and picked a decent-looking home at random; with most families who could afford it having fled, no one was inside. The utilities still worked, and the fridge even had cold drinks and food, so they shamelessly camped there to clean up and regroup.
Ten minutes later.
Hot water poured over Rai's head. Rinsing away grime, travel fatigue, and the stress of fighting Heather, he felt human again and summoned the Grimoire of the Eternal Prison.
The once-blank first entry was now filled.
[ID: 001]
[Name: Heather Neimark]
[Type: Wraith]
[Status: Contained]
[Abilities: Possession; Curse of the Wraith]
[Notes: A woman obsessed with beauty before and after death. After losing her arm, the golden prosthetic became her greatest fixation. Anyone who dares take it will be hunted without end until she gets it back.]
Beside the text, a lifelike portrait showed Heather with her golden forearm attached, lips shaping the words, "my golden arm."
"So a whole wraith gets swallowed by the book and turned into a page?" Rai flipped through the still-blank leaves, impressed by the Grimoire's appetite and a little daunted by his lifetime of work ahead.
At least the Grimoire wasn't a boss that only took and never gave. Containing Heather had awarded him 80 Containment Points. Counting the 20 points he'd earned from enduring the curse twice, that made an even 100 from Heather.
Enough to raise an attribute by a full point.
Not bad.
Where to put the remaining 80? He couldn't learn "wraith" abilities as a living human, so it had to be Physique and Spirit. Physique was obvious; Spirit made it easier to perceive non-corporeal entities useful for his new line of work.
He could decide after a proper think. For now, he dried off, reaching for the towel…
Click.
The bathroom door opened.
Rai was startled and then frozen in place. A bare, perfect white silhouette stood in the doorway, every line and angle in perfect proportion, capped by a gorgeous, imperious face. There was only one person it could be.
Madison.
"Ahem." After several stunned seconds, Rai wrapped the towel around himself and looked away. "Madison… was there something you needed?"
In the mood to unwind after all that adrenaline, Madison stepped in without a shred of self-consciousness, did a slow spin to show off, and said, "You know exactly what I need. Want me to take the top role?"
"Ahem… Madison, I have a girlfriend."
"So? Since when does a goalkeeper stop the ball from going in? Besides…" She closed the distance, hooked a finger under his chin like a charming thug, and murmured with absolute confidence, "You really planning to 'stay faithful' to a Black Widow forever? Believe me, after what we just went through, I'm serious. Come on, Rai."
Her siren's call was relentless. Rai was about to marshal superhuman restraint when warm, sleek skin pressed against him, and she snapped the last thread:
"You're not into guys, are you? Or… are you just not up to it? I've heard things about Asian guys…"
That did it.
To make his point, Rai summoned the Grimoire.
'Add points'
[Physique: 1.2 → 1.3]
'More'
[Physique: 1.3 → 1.4]
"Rai…"
What followed was a pitched battle in a house that didn't belong to either of them.
—
Afterward.
Madison collapsed across him, exhausted and thoroughly satisfied, and drifted off. Rai nodded, pleased. Those last-second Physique boosts had paid off so much for his "dignity problem."
And the results were… decisive.
While basking in the victory, he noticed something unexpected. The Grimoire's pages began to rustle just like when Heather had been contained.
Puzzled, Rai opened it and blinked.
A second entry had appeared, and it was Madison.
[ID: 002]
[Name: Madison Montgomery]
[Type: Salem Witch]
[Status: Indirectly Contained]
[Abilities: Telekinesis; Pyrokinesis]
[Notes: Despite health constraints, Madison ranks near the top in Salem-line talent. Beware her arrogance, selfishness, ruthlessness… Perhaps she needs someone who can truly keep her in check. Maybe that's what she's secretly wanted?]
Beside it, a portrait of Madison in a black evening dress and half-veil hat, vivid as life.
Wait, what? What was that supposed to mean?