"Yes! It was that damn Danny who found that antique book from who knows where!"
"It all started with that damn antique book. Things began to get weird. Damn it!"
Thinking of Danny, who was just a year older than herself, Bridget couldn't help but want to punch him into a pig's head. She subconsciously grabbed the cross in her pocket, as if the cross could give her some strength.
Bridget felt a sense of calm as she continued to stare at the church in front of her, taking a deep breath.
"Thank goodness for the cross Haley gave me. I've been sleeping much better."
Remembering the changes that happened since she received the cross, Bridget exhaled deeply. From these changes alone, she knew that the priest, as muscular and reassuring as Haley had described, was indeed a powerful one.
Not like the fake priest on the live streaming app, who was utterly bogus, repeating the same thing over and over: having exorcised demons a few times on live streams, only to have his exorcism broadcasts shut down for some unknown regulation.
As for why she thought Father York was powerful.
Since the day she received the cross, she no longer had those terrifying nightmares, nor could she hear those horrifying whispers.
But even so, Bridget felt her home becoming more and more oppressive and terrifying, as if it were a ticking time bomb ready to explode at any moment.
Yet, no one else at home seemed to notice anything. Her mom was busy with moving, Danny was up to something secretive, and even the youngest, Casey, was giggling all day long.
"Oh! Shit! Really f*cking bad feeling," Bridget recalled everything, making enough preparations to step through the gate.
"This time, I must get that priest to come and see my house!"
But she hadn't taken two steps before a burly man approached her, stopping her in her tracks. Bridget knew this man was an employee of the church.
"Are you here to see Father York again today?"
Hearing this, Bridget had a bad feeling.
"Um, is the Father still not around today?"
As expected...
Robert looked at the girl who was still cautious but seemed to really need help, and shook his head with some regret.
"Sorry, Father York hasn't returned yet today."
Bridget's eyebrows furrowed subconsciously, and her right hand, holding the cross in her hoodie pocket, clenched tighter.
"Alright."
After speaking, Bridget turned and walked away, ignoring the burly man's offer to help. She didn't think anyone could help with such a bizarre and eerie matter. If it weren't for that priest, she felt she would be considered insane for mentioning it.
Her decisive attitude left Robert stunned, swallowing the words that he could help, as he watched the girl quickly run away.
"Phew!"
After running a distance and resuming her walk, Bridget took out her phone from her pocket, hesitating at the thought of the number Haley had given her.
Initially, when Haley told her that the priest had instructed this and that she could call him if anything happened, she felt like the priest understood everything.
"Should I call?"
Bridget's expression was troubled, but she ultimately put away the phone and hurried home.
"Ah, forget it! After all, nothing has happened yet, and besides, it seems that priest isn't here. I might as well just secretly throw away that antique book."
With this heavy heart, Bridget quickened her pace towards home.
If Danny doesn't give it up, I must fight with him and vent my frustration!
Moving through several neighborhoods until she reached her street, Bridget felt her mood worsen.
She hated this damned place, full of drunken fools at night, safe only during the day.
Luckily, they were moving out soon.
Bridget suppressed her feelings, hands in pockets, cool like a boy, vigilantly crossing the street into her apartment building.
Slap, slap, slap! Bridget watched the old elevator with its dreadfully slow response, her irritation rising, making her even more impatient.
Finally, as the elevator descended, Click!
The doors opened to an empty elevator, and Bridget stepped in, pressing the button for the tenth floor.
"Hey, wait! Bridget!"
Hearing this familiar, increasingly effeminate voice, Bridget moved her index finger down to press the open door button, stopping the elevator.
A dark-skinned man ran in, gasping for breath against the wall.
Bridget couldn't help but roll her eyes, releasing the button and coolly watching the doors close.
"I mean, Morse, how have you changed so much, that thing's influence on you is that strong?"
Hearing this, Morse, who had already changed his way of thinking, instinctively said after catching his breath.
"Is it?"
"Yeah." Bridget nodded.
Initially, it was nothing, but the next second, she saw her neighbor suddenly smile shyly.
"It's okay, I guess. I haven't really felt any effects."
Watching Morse, who seemed unaware of his situation, Bridget felt a chill and stealthily moved a few steps away, pretending to lean against the elevator wall.
"Well, as long as you're fine."
Morse smiled shyly again. Since the day he was recognized by Father York, he had changed his perspective. Looking at Bridget, whom he had a good impression of, he remembered the noises he had heard over the last few nights.
"Speaking of Bridget..." Morse began.
"What's up?"
Bridget, watching the elevator slowly ascend to the sixth floor, responded casually.
"What are you guys doing at home around eleven or twelve at night? The noise is so loud."
Morse didn't see Bridget's expression turn serious and frightened for a moment.
"It's seriously affecting my sleep."
Saying this, Morse also remembered the intermittent knocking sounds and continued.
"And tell Danny to stop knocking on the walls, or I'll have to complain about you guys!"
Click!
Just then, the elevator door opened, reaching the tenth floor. Morse glanced at it, wanting to say more, but Bridget had already run out without saying a word, giving no chance for explanation.
"Hmph!"
Morse huffed, stepping out of the elevator, watching Bridget who had already entered her apartment, grumbling.
"It seems the whole family is troublesome. Don't force me to complain about you!"
Bang! Upon entering her home, Bridget forcefully shut the door, glaring at everything.
Living room, kitchen.
Her mom wasn't there, and the youngest sister, Casey, sat on the couch, seemingly startled by her.
Bridget glanced at the disassembled Barbie doll in Casey's hand, her expression stern as she strode over.
"Where's Danny?"
Feeling something off about her sister, Casey, who was most afraid of Bridget, obediently pointed towards the room at the end of the hallway.
Seeing this, Bridget, expressionless, slowly walked over. This time, she had to throw away that antique book at any cost!
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