While Robert, Casey, and Georgia are trying to figure out how to work together, something sinister is happening at that house and it’s attracting the attention of the neighbors and other people.
Neighbors were gathering on the street in front of Robert’s home. They stood in horror as the bricks turned to pitch, and the flowers wilted and died. From the flower beds toward the street, the grass was resembling the flowers. The windows had darkened preventing anyone from seeing into the home. Many pointed at the attic thinking they saw something jump and smoke escape from the vents up there. Even the concrete was cracking and turning colors.
Some thought the house was going to explode. Others thought it was arson gone wrong, and some asserted the place was either haunted or possessed. The latter group was scoffed at by the others. The only thing on which they could agree was that Robert and Casey made it out of there, or they hoped the two made it out.
Those who tried to step onto the lawn were treated to all the small hairs on their body standing on end and being momentarily frozen with a fear they’d never felt.
Social media was flooded with posts from the neighborhood with the house being the center of the buzz. Many were calling for help to deal with a potential disaster. The lovers of the supernatural were calling for investigators to come and find out what was in the house, and there were those hoping this would be on the news and lead to a movie in which they could have a part.
No one witnessed the vintage pick-up truck parked behind them with faded red paint and a plastic camper top for the bed. They were just as oblivious to the middle-aged man stepping out of it and going to the bed to remove some pieces of equipment. He stood to the right of the crowd snapping pictures and taking videos with his phone. He was dressed in jeans, a plain gray t-shirt, jogging shoes, and a hat upon which was embroidered, “Pass the blessings and the beer.” Around his neck hung a simple silver chain with a cross devoid of Jesus. Sticking out of his right back pocket was a bible.
After taking the videos and photos, he started talking to some people in the crowd to get an idea of how long the house had been like that, who lived there, what happened to the people, and other information. This took a little over four hours. He sat in his truck dictating into his phone the accountings as he remembered them, which was not difficult for him to do as many of the witnesses had the same details. He then placed his phone on the passenger side of the bench seat and drove out of the neighborhood.
What some were seeing in the attic was the demon lurching in his chest making it lift off the boards and slam down. He would ram the sides of the box making one end thump the wood and then the other end. He tried shifting the chest by shifting his weight only to make the chest slide in the direction of the shift.
He howled in utter anger and frustration. The only thing fueling his strength was his anger and the curiosity of the people outside. With every failed attempt, he would grunt, growl, yell, and rest. As his hunger and anger grew the more every thing around him became corrupted except the wood for the attic floor and the cedar chest which was his prison.
Later that night, the stranger returned in the truck to see a different set of people outside the home, amateur investigators. He leaned against his truck and watch them argue over who was at the address first, and who has the right to post to Youtube first. After the third time, he heard the same argument, he walked toward the group.
“You’re only fueling the thing in the attic, whatever it may be, with your arguing and in-fighting. I suggest you draw straws and settle this.
The three groups turned to face the man.
One woman walked over to him, “Father Raymond? Is that you?”
The man nodded, “Yes, and right now I am disappointed in the lot of you. All of you have visited my church, and now you are out here arguing over who gets credit while a family’s home is in peril. Again the longer you snipe at each other, the more the darkness grows. Between the neighbors earlier and you know, the front lawn is almost completely dead.”
They all turned and looked at the lawn. Save for three feet from the curve, all the grass had wilted and browned.
The Father stepped forward and stooped down, “Have any of you been able to get on the property, or have you been too wrapped up in your dispute to try that?”
The woman he spoke to before adjusted her ball cap, and faced him, “Dex tried it when he got here and was frozen to the spot for a couple of minutes.”
Raymond stroked his chin, “That’s not good. It could mean what is in there was feeling you out.”
He stood and faced the crews, “I suggest you do not approach the house unless you have a priest or a demonologist.”
The woman took her cap off and scratched her head, “What about you?”
“I am still looking into it, and if it is what I think it is, there is nothing anyone can do.”
Unless you’re of a certain lineage. I can’t believe it’s here. I thought they destroyed it.