"Evangeline Williams, Beacon Press." She introduced herself, taking note of his body language. He wanted to say something about the case, but it was clear he couldn't...or wouldn't. Evie wrote something down in her notes before tearing it and handing it to him. "It's my email in case you want to say something." She said with a little grin before leaving.

She sighed softly upon arriving home, sinking into the couch. Every turn lead back to square one. Who were these guys? She glanced at the time, decided fuck it, and headed into the kitchen to grab herself a drink. She went back to her computer to see if there was anything she missed.

___

A few days had passed since she had spoken to Father Walters and still no other leads. Fruitless hours spent checking the evidence were all for not. Evie moaned as she rubbed her eyes knowing she'd never hear the end of it from Joe.

The sun slowly sank, but the city never stopped moving. A young man walked alone towards his shabby apartment. He'd just gotten off his second job and was about to get some well needed sleep. As the sidewalk led him under a bridge, he instinctively looked up into the eaves to see if any homeless souls had decided to nest there for the night. Sure enough, there was a man in an old black coat. He had his face tucked into a grey scarf, and he appeared to be snoozing. But he was a bit different than the usual gruff old veteran or dingbat. He sat almost right next to the sidewalk, perched among the large limestone rocks that stacked up to support the pillars. Almost like he was waiting for a ride, the young man thought.

As he got closer, determined not to change his course do to this vagabond, something caught his eye. The man's nose was deformed. It almost looked like the front half was missing, like someone had cut it off. He felt a pang of pity for a moment before remembering a poster he'd seen the other day. Could this be the mysterious man with no mouth? If so, there was a 25 dollar reward for a picture, and boy did he need a tank of gas.

The young man stepped closer, trying to be as silent as he could. He slipped his phone out of his pocket and swiped up for the camera. He paused to snap the picture, just as the man's eyes popped open. Maybe it was just the street lights reflecting off of them, but the young man could have sworn he saw them glint in the darkness. His heart skipped a beat.

"Shit," He breathed as he instinctively hauled ass out of there. Fuck that.

______________________________________________________________________________

The newest picture was posted almost immediately. This one was different. It was clear; not the pixelated and blurry mess the last couple had been. This one showed, almost clearly, a man with messy dark hair and dark, wild eyes.



"I just saw him like an hour ago! He was hanging out under the bridge at Kent Street and Midland parkway, just snoozing on the rocks. He woke up literally right when I took this. I'm kind of a pussy, so I ran away. He gave the creeps, man."- Jacobi Benson

Comments: (6)

J.Harris: Since when did Beacon post fake news?

PWCooper: Look at that face. Where these weirdos come from?

Jules.Smules: Is this another fake viral movie campaign? This has to be fake.

J.Grey: You don't realize what you are provoking here. Stay away from this man and anything that he has to do with.

LLLLoyd: How does he eat?

PaulaT: You guys need to leave that poor man alone.

Evie blinked upon getting a notification about the add Joe had sent out, quickly clicking the link to make sure it wasn't some punks trying to scam them. A shocked gasp escaped as she covered her mouth upon seeing the picture; his deformed face, those piercing bright eyes...eyes that told a thousand stories behind them. She wasn't horrified by his appearance but rather sorrowful; sorrow that he was concerned a freak or a monster by society.

She furrowed her brow upon one of the comments, wondering what they meant. She couldn't let this lead get any colder. J. Grey, what do you mean stay away from him? What do you know about this man? She asked them, hoping they'd respond. Everything was so cryptic lately.

It took about half an hour, but, finally, J.Grey responded. They had clearly seen her Beacon employee account, because the message was very accusing. It was a private message, hidden from the public eye, perhaps as to keep further interest from being stirred.

"You want a picture of this man? I'll give you one."

Followed was a black and white sketch, clearly photocopied from a book, that depicted what looked like a scene from the Salem Witch Trials. It showed a mob gathered around a tall tree, a dead man hanging by his neck from a noose from it. He was dressed in a black wool coat that matched the style of those around him. He had dark hair and a willowy form. Most notably, he had a deformed nose and no mouth.

"Or maybe you like this one better."

This one was a picture of a painting that was in the style of art pieces from around 1300. It depicted a man tied to a stake in the middle of a fire, flames engulfing him. A crowd was gathered around, some of the patrons looking a bit frightened. The man depicted was wearing a black garb, had dark hair, and a thin build. Most notably, he had a deformed nose and no mouth.

"One more, and I better get $25 for each."

The last one was clearly a mosaic on a wall, the style near ancient, probably around 1100. It showed a scene of a man being stoned. An angry mob pelted the man with large rocks, despite him clearly being deceased. The man, sprawled on the ground, was wearing a black robe. He had dark hair and a lithe form. Most notably, he had a deformed nose and no mouth.

"What the fuck?" Evie whispered as she looked at the different pictures they had sent before glancing at the most current one. All the same man; different time eras. There was no possible way he could still be alive after all this time. It had to be fake, photoshopped...right?

Where did you find all these? How do you know so much about this man? Why should I stay away from him? She inquired. She wasn't going to let them get away with the money, not without a few answers.

The next message was only three different links.

The first link referenced a small blurb in a book about the Salem Witch trials.

The second link led to an art appreciation website. The painting was done by a little known artist from a rural part of China, dated 1321. No other information was provided.

The last link was to a website about a historic church in Italy. The tile was just barley visible in one of the photos of the many artworks found there. It was estimated to have been made as early as 1190. These events took place several centuries apart, thousands of miles away from each other, and were most certainly fatal. Surely it couldn't be the same man. Could it?

J.Grey was now offline, and he didn't seem interested in sharing any further insight. Another link gone cold?

An hour passed, and the sun had long since set. Suddenly, another e-mail pinged her inbox. It was from what looked like throw-away account, and only had one line of text.

"342 Elm Street. 9 Pm. Meet me by the tomb."

She had one hour to decide what to do.

Evie looked over the links that were sent, still in disbelief. How was this even possible? Reincarnation? Family deformity? There had to be a logical reason for all of this. She sighed, knowing she was only diving deeper into a strange rabbit hole. She had fallen asleep when the notification ping jolted her awake. She blinked at the address before looking at the time. This would be her one chance at answers.

She looked around as the deadline drew near, making sure she had everything right. "By the tomb? What tomb? Do they seriously think I'm going to walk into a...cemetery?" She asked aloud as she came across an old cemetery with crumbling headstones. She gulped nervously before walking in, being careful not to step on the graves. "Hello?"

The cemetery backed up to the, you guessed it, Our Lady of Sorrows Cathedral. It wasn't overly large, but it was still plenty spooky. There was only one mausoleum, standing almost dead center. The moonlight was the only thing that lit the decaying headstones. As she approached it, a figure stepped out from around it.

"You came," Lars said, a pleasantly surprised smile greeting her. "I was afraid this whole scene would be too much for you. Lucas has a flair for the...dramatic, you might call it?"

Evie flinched upon Lars moving, her heart beating a little faster. She noticed how jumpy she was lately upon taking this story, probably due to the mystery behind it all. "No, I'm used to strange places." She replied with a chuckle she intended to come off brave but her nerves clearly showed.

"Wait, Lucas?" She asked, tilting her head a little. She wasn't aware that there would be more than one person at this place. She knew that Lars wouldn't do anything, being a priest, but that wouldn't stop this Lucas fellow.

"That's who you wanted to meet isn't it?" He asked, cocking his head to the side. He could tell her nerves were getting the better of her. Not that he could blame her. His phone pinged, and he took it out of his pocket to check it. He scoffed softly.

"He'd going to be late. Well, let's not stand out here with the dead all night. Come on."

With that, the priest led her back towards the church. There was an old metal door that led into the back, clearly a lesser used entrance. The cathedral was spooky at night: the halls dark and abandoned. It didn't seem to bother Lars one bit, however.

Evie blinked a few times before following him inside the cathedral where the once cheerful place felt foreboding and even a haunted vibe. Shivers ran over her, hands rubbing her arms for warmth. "It's so different in the light. Less...spooky." She admitted.

"How long have you known him? Lucas that is." She asked, the reporter in her never stopping to achieve the story.

Lars chuckled. "People say I'm spooky, too. Can you imagine?" The section of the church he led her to was looking less and less traveled. Finally, he led her to what was almost certainly a basement door. The sound of jingling keys broke the silence. The door opened, and the abyss met them. The darkness was foreboding. Luckily, someone had to the foresight to install lights.

"I've known him a very long time," The priest admitted. "Walters doesn't approve of our collaboration. Walters is a coward." The words were spoken almost venomously. "One of the best exorcists in the country, and he hangs up his hat after taking the lid off the mother of all Pandora's boxes."

The stairs creaked as they descended. This place almost looked like some sort of old catacomb. "Fortunately, some of us aren't afraid to die for the greater good. I don't particularly have a choice, anyway."

"Even before most of us were born?" She inquired him. "Don't deny it, I've seen the pictures. The Witch Trials, burned at the stake, even stoned to death. It can't possibly be the same person...can it?"

Doubt filled her as they continued down the catacombs, not quite sure what she had gotten herself into. What if this Lucas guy was, indeed, meant to be avoided?

"Well, I haven't known him that long." Lars continued. "But I know he's been around for a while. Isaac doesn't talk a lot on the subject, but I know Lucas...isn't exactly human."

He stopped outside of a room that could only be described as dungeon. Here they were, alone, deep beneath the ground, in the middle of the night. This was certainly starting to look like a scene from 48 Hours. Lars turned to her, his face serious once more.

"Before we go in here, you have to promise me you won't intervene with what you see. Don't say anything, don't do anything. If you have a camera on you, a phone or anything, record this and focus on keeping it in the frame." He paused. "Just don't let Lucas see it. He's kinda' weird about cameras."

With that, Lars opened the door. The room was large and empty. In the middle of it, chained shut and heavily bolted to the floor, was what looked like a chest. At the sounds of the door creaking open, an unearthly roar came from within the confines of it, and the chains shook. Lars motioned to a spot in the corner for Evie to stand, far from the chest. He held a finger up to his lips to signal her to be silent. Any minute now, they would be joined by the infamous Lucas.

Not exactly human? Evie echoed in her mind. Then what is he? Upon arriving at the dungeon and hearing his words, she nodded in reply although wondering what he meant by it. A squeak of fright escaped her as the chest moved, she herself moving to the corner Lars had pointed to. She nodded again, her heart pounding inside her chest.

What the hell is going on here? She thought, getting her phone camera ready to record whatever was going to happen here. At least she was going to get some answers.

They waited in the dimly lit room for what felt like an eternity. Whatever was in the chest would shake and growl every now and then. Finally, the heavy door creaked open again. The man that walked in was...underwhelming. His frame was small, and he was buried under the old, black wool coat he wore. His face was tucked into a scarf, hiding the lower portion. He walked into the room slowly, cautiously.

His eyes immediately found Evie. They were every bit as dark and wild as the photo. He froze, seeming to contemplate running.

"It's fine," Lars said, seeing their guest freeze. "She's fine. Let's just get on with it."

Lucas's head whipped around to glare at the priest. He nodded and moved towards the chest. Lars approached the chest too, his keys jingling once more. He began unlocking the numerous, heavy locks. When the last one finally fell, the lid flew open. Long, spidery tendrils shot out. Lars barely managed to avoid getting snatched by one. He backed away until his back hit the cold, stone wall. Lucas, on the other hand, held his ground.

The screeching roar emitted from the chest was not from this world, and neither was the monster seemingly trying to climb out of it. The many arms and tentacles searched for something to grab as a roundish body pulled itself up towards the room. That chest was apparently a lot bigger on the inside than it appeared.

Lucas took a few steps towards the beast, and it actually withdrew from him. The man began to emit light from seemingly nowhere, and the tentacles within the vicinity of him caught fire. When Lucas reached the chest, he shot his hands out and touched the monster. It wailed a horrible cry of pain as it's body caught fire and burned to ash. Soon, the entire thing was gone, and the room was eerily silent.

Evie found her breath catching in her throat as Lucas stared at her, reaching deep into her soul. He looked frightened, surprised even to find her there. She watched the two carefully, still unsure as to what was happening exactly. A startled cry choked as she remembered not to make a sound; but she wanted to scream in terror at whatever was crawling out of the chest.

She watched in awe as light appeared from Lucas before he finally ended the monstrosity. It wasn't until the silence ran on for an eternity she realized she didn't record any of it. How could she? Everyone would debunk it as a hoax or CGI. "What...what was that thing?" She asked, finally finding her voice.

"A demon," Lars answered grimly, peeling himself off of the wall. "One that's overtaken a host. They're rare, but they've been getting increasingly more common with every day."

Lucas was already slinking out of the room. He was definitely not very sociable.

"Demons that possess people, like they did to Mrs. Reynolds's son, can't overtake the human form on their own. They need help. And that's the most disturbing part: someone is creating these things. Taking people off of the street, and forcing demons inside of them." Lars seemed very heated about this topic. This was clearly a very personal fight to him.

"A demon? As in from hell demon?" Evie asked, terrified. This couldn't be real and yet...she did witness it all. "But why? Why force demons inside of people? Especially those on the streets, they haven't done anything." She pointed out before noticing Lucas was gone. "Hey! Wait!" She exclaimed, heading out of the room to follow him.

"Wait, I want to talk to you!" She called out.

Lars nodded, confirming that this demon was, in fact, from hell. "We have theories on who's doing it and why, but nothing we can prove. How do you explain this," He motioned to the chest, "To the authorities?"

He watched her chase after Lucas, and gave a short chuckle. "Good luck. He's long gone." He walked over to the door. "He's not very friendly."