Bang!!!
As York descended the stairs, one step after another, the sounds he made were louder than usual.
This cold and deathly silent basement seemed to transform into a megaphone, amplifying any sound to double its original volume.
If it were an ordinary person, seeing the dark space inside and hearing the amplified sounds might send shivers down their spine, but York remained indifferent. He simply moved the small bag hanging on his shoulder to his chest for easier access.
He didn't have a storage space, so this small bag served as his self-provided storage, filled with essential items.
A Bible, which, through recitation, could enhance the power of his magic, achieving a 1+1 effect.
Fifty specially enchanted salt bullets, all of them.
Three bottles of Holy water, and three consecrated crucifixes for direct output.
"Now I finally understand why basements are a standard feature in horror films."
Carrying the Winchester M1897, York had just descended the stairs and reached the flat ground. After turning on the light, he looked around and felt that this basement was indeed very suitable as one of the terrifying locations in a horror film; the horror elements were simply too complete.
In the dim light, this neither large nor small basement was cluttered with miscellaneous items, all wooden furniture and a bed, old and cracked, covered in cobwebs. There were also some clothes hanging here and there, covered in dust... Normally, it might not seem like much, but combined with the chilling atmosphere and the knowledge that there was something unclean here, the horror elements multiplied, making one's scalp tingle.
Of course, York was not in that category. After scanning the room, he walked to the center of the basement.
In his eyes, the resentment here was like a thick fog permeating the basement.
The only regrettable thing was that this was all that was worth mentioning. Even though he had reached the center, nothing had happened.
"Not coming out?"
York casually wiped his eyes. With his magic spreading, he looked at the resentment swirling in the air, raising an eyebrow.
While specters and evil spirits wander the human world, they also have their own space of existence, but they are confined within a certain range like being in prison. Unless someone is cursed by them and moves, only then can they follow... This is why The Roger Family's situation did not change even after they left here... "Alright, if you won't come out, then I'll force you out." York gripped the Winchester M1897 in his right hand and reached into the small bag on his chest with his left hand, pulling out a bottle of Holy water.
In the Western world, Holy water is effective against all evil things, demons, even evil spirits or wraiths. For these things, Holy water is a deadly poison.
York pushed his thumb into the cork and flicked it upwards, easily removing it.
"I gave you a chance!"
With that, York held the bottle and flung it forward. As the Holy water inside splashed out, the resentment in front, which was like thick fog, suddenly swept outwards as if it had encountered its natural nemesis, avoiding the area where the Holy water landed.
"Come out!!"
York continued to shake the bottle, starting to fling Holy water to the left.
Just like before, the thick resentment melted instantly like snow meeting fire. The originally dense fog of resentment began to thin.
"Come out!!!"
Still no movement, York continued to fling to the right. The Holy water in the bottle was enough for him to cover all four directions—front, back, left, and right. If the mother's evil spirit still didn't come out, then she was asking for death, and he couldn't be blamed.
"Come out!!"
As York shouted, the Holy water splashed to the right.
Just then, York suddenly spun around, the Winchester M1897 tightly gripped in his right hand instantly aimed forward. He felt the change in temperature and movement behind him.
A stout woman, dressed in a white 18th-century Western-style dress similar to a Polish gown, appeared on the wooden furniture.
She sat there, cowering, holding a small blood-stained knife in her hand, her back to him.
A rough sound, not like a human's, but like a beast's, rang out.
"She made me do it..."
"She made me!!!"
"..."
York silently tightened his grip on the bottle in his left hand, the muzzle of the shotgun in his right hand constantly aimed at the evil spirit, no, the wraith, in front of him.
If he wasn't mistaken, this stout woman was the mother who had died tragically in the basement, as there was no intense malice emanating from her.
"Where is she!" York said calmly.
However, as soon as his words fell, the stout woman trembled, and her form became even more timid and ethereal.
Clearly, the other party was extremely afraid of "her," Bathsheba, so much so that her form couldn't even stabilize.
"No!!!"
"I don't want to!!!"
Suddenly, the stout woman's figure trembled more and more, and a beast-like sound emanated from her.
"No!!!!"
With the roar, the stout woman's already fading figure instantly vanished.
At the same time.
York sighed in his heart. With a crack, the bottle in his left hand instantly shattered, Holy water flowing from between his fingers. As York shifted his body, he threw a heavy punch hard to the right.
He was like a true boxer; this heavy punch, combined with his tall stature, was immensely powerful.
The stout woman's wraith, holding a small knife, had just appeared from the right when York's heavy punch struck her face, which was covered in black liquid.
"Roar!!!!!"
Accompanied by a howl and a burst of air, the stout woman's figure was blasted apart, vanishing without a trace.
"Asking for death!"
York, his face utterly calm after delivering the punch, only showed a hint of sternness in his eyes. Disregarding the fragments remaining on his left hand, he continued his movements, pulling out another bottle of Holy water and throwing it fiercely towards the area where the resentment had gathered.
At this instant, while the bottle was still in the air, York raised the Winchester M1897 with his right hand, pulled the trigger, completing the entire action in one smooth motion.
Bang!!!!
As the Winchester M1897 spewed out a salt bullet, the Holy water bottle in the air was also shattered, droplets of Holy water sprinkling all around.
Upstairs in the living room, everyone was startled by the gunshot, but downstairs in the basement, movement first appeared.
"Roar ah ah ah ah ah!!!!!"
As the beast-like howl rang out, the sound of a taut rope also followed, and the temperature of the entire basement dropped at an extremely fast rate.
Click!!!!
York quickly pumped the Winchester M1897's slide and fired a shot towards the rapidly gathering resentment.
The timing was chosen very cleverly. Just as the Winchester M1897 was about to spray out the special salt bullet, a figure, floating in the air, dressed in a rusty white nightgown with disheveled hair, appeared precisely in the direction the gun was aimed.