"Will you go in?" Father Doug couldn't quite grasp how Jonathan could do something like that, but after witnessing his abilities, he had no doubt.
Jonathan looked at the boy named Dalton and said, "Suppressing the demon was easy. This kid would have been fine for fifteen to twenty years, but the demon that took over his body can return."
"What do you need?" Father Doug asked seriously.
"I'll enter his mind. But if for any reason I die, end him." Jonathan's ambiguous words were crystal clear to Father Doug, who didn't hesitate to pull out a strangely shaped shotgun.
Mr. Lambert, standing at the door of his son's room, asked, "What do you mean by that?"
"It's a containment method. If I die, I need to make sure the evil doesn't escape this house." Jonathan hoped his words were understood.
Killing Dalton was the last resort. They couldn't allow the demon within him to accomplish its goal. Possessing Josh Lambert—or worse, defeating someone like Jonathan—would be the final warning that evil needed to be eradicated with extreme measures.
Father Doug was aware of the protocols, and for that reason alone, he was ready to listen carefully to what Jonathan had to say, fully knowing what he was capable of.
Jonathan nodded, looked at Mr. Lambert, and said, "I'm going to conduct a deep inspection of your son to exterminate any lingering traces of darkness."
"Alright. I understand."
With nothing else to say, and the mission not yet finished, Jonathan placed his hand on the boy's head and closed his eyes.
…
A few minutes later, in a completely unknown place, a hollow dripping sound echoed.
Jonathan felt a stabbing pain in his head, as if it could split open at any moment. At that moment, countless scenes played in his mind, like a stream of movies. He wanted to wake up, but no matter what he tried, he couldn't open his eyes.
As if he were dreaming, he could feel and see scenes flashing through his mind rapidly and continuously.
Sleep paralysis?
The thought crossed Jonathan's mind as his consciousness fought to awaken. Finally, his left finger moved, and he felt it—cold and wet to the touch. His right hand seemed to be pinned under a heavy object and had gone numb.
In sleep paralysis, physical strength meant nothing. Dreams were a mystery to Jonathan, so he didn't know exactly how to act under the pressure of this dark, unfamiliar entity.
His first guesses were related to something that could neither be seen nor touched. But solving that first problem by entering the mind of the dark entity might allow him to resolve things more effectively.
I hope Father Doug follows the instructions to the letter. My life depends on whether these hypotheses are correct.
"Huh…" Jonathan didn't know how much time had passed, but finally, he opened his eyes. He gasped loudly, feeling only overwhelming fatigue.
His throat was dry, and his body felt heavy. Apparently, he was lying in a large puddle of water. Those were the first sensations he felt as his sense of touch slowly returned.
He sensed something, so he raised his left hand to look. His palm was stained red like blood—it was a shocking sight. Jonathan's gaze slowed as his heartbeat began to race.
His right hand still wouldn't move. So he turned his head slightly and looked toward the far wall. A small body was curled up there. His tattered clothes were stained with blood, and his youthful face bore traces of tears.
"Dalton…" Jonathan recognized the boy—the one he had saved from the demon's clutches. It was obvious he wasn't okay. He slept uneasily, his body trembling constantly.
Jonathan quickly noticed a toy in the child's hands—his arms, trembling nonstop, clutched it like a talisman.
If the demon still tortures him without him remembering, sooner or later it will return to haunt Dalton. Jonathan immediately made that deduction.
He carefully turned to one side, bending his arm with his elbow pointed toward the ground as he sat up and leaned against a wall.
Now seated, Jonathan looked around. His heart pounded wildly, and a wave of sharp pain surged through him.
Ignoring the pain in his body, Jonathan examined the place with intense focus.
He knew this demon well. He wasn't powerful compared to other supernatural beings, and knowing the method to defeat him meant Jonathan could win—as long as he faced the entity in its weakened state.
Upon careful inspection, he discovered the place resembled a seemingly endless underground corridor.
Where he had appeared looked strange, with small, tunnel-like holes lining the walls. The lighting was minimal, and the temperature was unnaturally low, turning the area into something eerily terrifying.
In the distance, Jonathan saw two frozen bodies lying horizontally on the floor. They had turned a dark purplish hue, and their blood had stained the ground red.
There was no need to check—clearly, they had been dead for some time.
A memory surfaced in Jonathan's mind, and he understood what was happening.
A stabbing sensation gripped him, followed by intense sorrow and searing pain. It was as if he couldn't distinguish who he really was.
Then he looked down at the trembling boy and felt an even more unbearable sensation—a prickling all over his body.
With a clearer mind, Jonathan could faintly sense what had happened. He looked down at the floor and saw the water shifting slightly, as though it were a small stream.
The blood from the corpses not far from him had reached where he sat, soaking his body in crimson.
At that moment, the boy's eyelashes fluttered, and he opened his eyes, whispering in horror: "Sir… What are you doing here?"
"I'm here to destroy the monster. Don't you see my clothes? I'm a priest. You'll be safe soon."
"A priest?" As if remembering something, Dalton ran into Jonathan's arms and began to cry loudly. His small, trembling body clung tightly to him, but Jonathan didn't know how to react, so he held his head firmly.
At that moment, his right hand was wrapped tightly around the boy's neck, applying just enough pressure to make sure he couldn't resist if he suddenly panicked.
"Tell me, Dalton, where is the monster?"
Dalton, clinging to the only light of safety in this dark place, whispered, "We're not supposed to look for it. We can only hide from it."
"Trust me. There's no need to hide. I'm stronger." Jonathan stood up, raised his hand slightly, and with a whisper, the walls began to crack.
Crack!
Suddenly, a figure identical to Dalton appeared from the crack, its appearance miserable.
"Now you hide?"
"You shouldn't be here…"
Jonathan smiled and said, "Light is stronger than darkness. Even if darkness came first, you'll always find a trace of light strong enough to extinguish the dominion of shadows."
"Damn priest!"
Without waiting another moment, Jonathan reached out and, before the demon could escape, grabbed it by the neck.
"I purify you in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy…" Jonathan unleashed a massive wave of spiritual power, and all the darkness ruling Dalton's mind was extinguished by a blinding white light.
Argh!
And that red-faced demon died at the hands of Jonathan, who, ignoring the wound on his right arm, whispered:
"Amen."
"[Congratulations on completing the mission… You have gained +100 General Strength Points, Spiritual Energy Boosters, and an Unknown Skill.]"