"That's old news now."
Seemingly displeased that Mac was drawing too much of Madison's attention, one of his companions called out loudly.
As Madison's gaze turned towards him, he continued excitedly: "The frightened neighbours reburied the couple, including the golden arm, back in the ground. Things had been peaceful for years.Then, not long ago, a gang of grave robbers came and stole the golden arm from the coffin once more. That's why there are now rumours of Heather's vengeful spirit prowling and howling through the night."
"Indeed! They say the locals keep hearing heavy footsteps outside at night, along with dreadful howls."
"Numerous hounds and poultry have been found disembowelled, their internal organs completely devoured."
"Not only that, but several people who went out to investigate at night never returned."
"Even summoning a priest for an exorcism proved futile."
"..."
When it comes to supernatural mysteries, people are naturally both afraid and curious.
If there had been initial hesitation, now, fuelled by alcohol, allure, and the crowd's energy, they spoke freely.
"Hmph! What evil spirits, murderers? Only those old fogies who jump at shadows believe such nonsense. What era are we in? Even if a demon came, I'd put a bullet through its head."
"Who's got the guts to come with me and see for themselves? Whether we expose it as a hoax or capture this so-called evil spirit, we'll be the heroes of the county!"
Seeing Madison's gaze drawn to the others, Mac—desperate for his moment—banged the table and declared boldly.
The other men, already well on their way, were spurred into enthusiastic agreement by Mike's provocation:
Off we go! Whoever stays behind is a coward!
"We're the bravest lads in town, of course we're going!"
"Heh heh, wonder what it's like now that the once-beautiful Heather's turned into a spectre?"
"..."
Left unchecked, these young men, their courage now fully aroused, would undoubtedly play themselves into a Hollywood horror movie scenario.
Madison, keeping her distance from the young man intent on cursing the spirit, paid little heed to their bravado. Having already gathered considerable information, she pressed further:
"Where did these tales of the evil spirit originate?"
"Green Town, down in Alpina County. That's where Heather's buried." one replied.
Another, his drunken eyes glazed over, suddenly pointed towards a middle-aged black man nearby. "That bloke used to be a farmhand under Heather's husband. He knows more."
"Cheers," Madison said, glancing at the man before waving farewell to the group of young men who were now of no further use to her.
"Don't go! It's still early, stay and play with us. I can prove to you I'm really big, you know!"
Reeking of alcohol, Mike sprang to his feet as Madison prepared to leave, blocking her path. Reluctantly, he reached out, determined to forcibly keep the beauty from leaving.
Madison's hand swept through the air with a subtle flick. Mike stumbled suddenly, his face slamming hard against the floor, instantly drawing blood.
As his flustered companions scrambled to lift him up,
With no one left to obstruct her, Madison rose and asked with an air of nonchalance:
"By the way, I hear Heather was the most beautiful girl around here back in the day. Is she as beautiful as me?"
"No," replied one who had once seen Heather, lifting his head in a daze.
"Good."
With her spirits lifted, Madison turned and walked away.
After reuniting with Ruboo, she relayed the intelligence she had gathered.
Ruboo glanced at the black man drinking alone—reportedly a labourer under the Golden Arm couple—and stroked his chin. "We'll need to verify with him one last time."
Striding over to the man, Ruboo cut straight to the chase. "Hey, I'm Agent Smith from the Pentagon's Anomalous Affairs Division. I'd like to ask you a few questions."
As he spoke, he produced a palm-sized badge, waved it briefly before the man, then swiftly withdrew it.
This, of course, was no proof of any Anomalous Affairs Department. It was merely the commemorative badge the Monte Leon Hotel had given him earlier.
It was more than sufficient to deceive a man who'd spent his entire life in a small country town as a lumberjack, knowing nothing of the departments within the Pentagon, let alone those within his own county.
Sure enough, though the black man looked puzzled, he didn't argue. He just kept drinking his drink in silence, not really interested. "What is it?"
"Your name, sir."
"Andy."
"Mr Andy, if I may trouble you for a few minutes, I wish to ask you some questions about the Golden Arm."
Clang!
The moment Ruboo finished speaking, Andy's hand holding the glass jerked violently. The glass clattered to the floor, shattering into a thousand pieces.
Andy paid no heed to the mess, his bloodshot eyes fixed on Ruboo as he warned, his voice thick with terror, "Don't say that!"
Ruboo's smile remained unchanged. "Trust me, we're here to resolve this. Didn't you report it to the police? They couldn't handle it, so higher-ups sent us."
"You?" Andy scrutinised Ruboo's youthful face, scarcely older than his own son, with astonishment. "This isn't some prank. Are you really up to this? Even the priest came back empty-handed."
"Different strokes for different folks," Ruboo replied with a confident smile. "The priest's primary duty is communicating with God. When it comes to dealing with malevolent spirits, that's where professionals like us come in."
Then, glancing at the ring on Andy's left ring finger, he added, "Rest assured, we know far more about malevolent spirits than you imagine. We wouldn't treat this as some bogus scare tactic. Resolving this sooner rather than later can only benefit your family and your children. Wouldn't you agree?"
Perhaps infected by Ruboo's assurance, or perhaps thinking of his own family, Andy's resolve shifted. Clenching his jaw, he declared, "Whatever you wish to know, I shall tell you."
"Very well."
Ruboo began his questioning.
Initially, Andy's account closely matched what Ruboo had gleaned from Madison, though it was more detailed.
It was after the theft of the Golden Arm that he revealed more new information.
"We all know how vital the Golden Arm was to Heather. All these years, even knowing there was a substantial hoard of gold beneath the tomb, not a single one of us dared entertain the slightest greedy thought. Yet those damned thieves, who knows where they got wind of it, if they hadn't stolen the Golden Arm, Heather wouldn't have been roused from her eternal slumber. And Green Town wouldn't be in this state now." Andy declared indignantly.
Ruboo: "What has it become?"
Andy replied fearfully, "Each night, Heather returns from the grave, her spirit roaming the town in fury. At first, some young souls, defying superstition, ventured out to investigate. Soon, they vanished without exception."
"For heaven's sake! Never venture out after dark!"