The rectory's hallways were eerily quiet as Eamon made his way through them, the flickering candlelight casting long, distorted shadows against the stone walls.
He had just finished his duties for the evening, his body aching from the mental strain of yet another "cleansing." He sat down at one of the wooden pews, staring blankly ahead, exhaustion tugging at his thoughts.
Suddenly, a sharp, inhuman scream tore through the stillness. Eamon shot to his feet, his heart pounding in his chest.
The sound came from one of the inner chambers, where the other assistants were gathered. Without thinking, he bolted down the hallway, his mind racing.
As he reached the chamber, the door swung violently open, revealing a scene of pure chaos. One of the assistants—Brother Aaron—was writhing on the floor, his body convulsing as if gripped by invisible hands.
