Show lessDue to John's death, the clues abruptly stopped, and no one knew his method of committing the crimes or the whereabouts of the other children.
Back at his house, the police searched for more clues, including the clothes and accessories of the previously missing children.
John's criminal identity was essentially confirmed. Not only for the kidnapping of the little girl, Vicky, but also for several previous disappearance cases, all of which were pinned on him by the police.
Psychologists and child experts soon approached Vicky, asking her about her experience the day she went missing and what she had gone through in the following days.
"I saw a firefly, and I followed it under a metal frame. I crawled in after it, and then I found a clown..."
As for the clown's name, the consecutive days of fear had caused her to completely forget.
The police showed her the clown mask and asked, "Was it this clown?"
This triggered a strong reaction from Vicky, confirming that John had dressed up as the clown.
When Vicky regained consciousness, she found herself in a storage room at a supermarket.
At first, John treated her relatively well, only watching her drool. He would come by at night to deliver food, but in the last couple of days, he had begun abusing her.
Fortunately, Vicky was not sexually assaulted, but her body was covered in countless wounds.
"This indicates that John was not interested in little girls; he was interested in little boys. The boy in that video he released, Carl, was about fourteen years old, right? He was assaulted."
The criminal psychologist made this judgment.
Shortly afterward, the results from testing the crumpled papers came back.
They contained John's DNA. He didn't assault the little girl, but in the video...
This confirms that he was only attracted to boys, and he abused girls purely out of cruelty.
The police then summoned John's only relative, Casey, but unfortunately, she refused to speak. She simply lifted her clothes, revealing old scars and fresh wounds treated with ointment.
This was enough to prove that she was also one of the victims. Whether or not she participated in the crimes was unclear, and further investigation was required.
Psychologist Karen had a brief conversation with Casey, gaining some insight into her childhood experiences.
"When Casey was very young, her father fell off a cliff while hunting, and since then, her uncle John raised her. She had sought help from the police before, but John easily brushed it off, and what awaited her was even more brutal abuse.
As for the fresh burn scar on her body? It's laughable! On the second day after Vicky went missing, she reported hearing cries for help in the supermarket. But the police just made a brief visit and left, not taking it seriously at all. Her attempt to call for help resulted in a scalding cigarette burn."
Dr. Karen had many complaints about this.
When this incident came to light, the streets of Derry would likely become much cleaner, as the police in Derry were once again being shamed!
The police tried to suppress this information, but by noon, it had already leaked out.
Rumors started spreading like wildfire—not just about police negligence, but even more outlandish claims suggesting that John was protected by the police. Some said that many of the missing children were hidden by the police, with boys sent to churches and girls to the White House.
The mayor was so alarmed by these rumors that he personally called the chief of police for a friendly chat, hoping he could quickly stop the spread of these rumors.
But before the chief could act, by evening, protestors had already arrived at the police station, holding hastily made signs.
Most of these people were from families who had lost children, along with their friends.
The deep-seated pain and terror suddenly flooded back to these victims' hearts after John's death and the police's announcement of the case's closure, as if long-buried memories had suddenly resurfaced!
Little Vicky had been found, but their children might remain missing forever!
If the police had done their best in investigating these disappearance cases, that would have been one thing, but they hadn't—they had been completely ineffective. In fact, John had committed these crimes right under the police's noses!
Regarding the riots in town, Derry's police chief, Wilson, was especially furious and lost control during a meeting.
"Why was the final culprit John, just an ordinary middle-aged man? Even a devil would've been better! I've already called for backup!"
The others exchanged glances, unsure how to respond.
In the end, Wilson decided to find someone else to deflect the crowd's anger.
"What about that Casey? I don't believe she's completely innocent!"
The psychologist frowned and said, "Even if she has issues, it doesn't absolve her from guilt; that girl has dissociative identity disorder."
Karen was very concerned about Casey's mental state and had great sympathy for her situation. As a psychologist, she understood all too well the consequences of a traumatic childhood.
So she tried to delve into Casey's mind and guide her psychologically. However, as their conversations deepened, Karen discovered that Casey had a hidden personality—one that was unusual and of significant research value.
Dr. Karen wasn't just a psychologist; she was also an honorary professor at Columbia University and a board member of the local college, holding a high status in the town.
So when she spoke, Chief Wilson couldn't be too forceful and cautiously expressed his doubts: "Dissociative identity disorder? Mental illness? She seems perfectly normal."
"In fact, they are entirely different. Dissociative identity disorder means two completely different people. The personalities can even have distinct physiological differences. I once had a patient whose one personality was allergic to honey, while the other had no such reaction at all. You can think of it as two souls in one body."
The chief wasn't pleased with Karen's response—he was just making a casual remark, and here she was giving him a lecture.
And it all sounded so far-fetched. Is dissociative identity disorder some kind of superpower?
Chief Wilson wasn't willing to let go of his need for a scapegoat:
"Fine, then let's tell the public the child has dissociative identity disorder. She might not even know if her other personality assisted in the crimes. I still don't believe John could've committed so many disappearances alone!"
"You'd better not do that."
Dr. Karen disapproved of the police's approach. "Ms. Beverly seems to have a close relationship with her. She was standing outside the door the whole time I was talking to Casey."
Beverly was a key figure in solving the case; with her support, any accusations against Casey would likely go nowhere.
"Damn it!"
Wilson cursed. He had no fondness for Beverly and thought she had sparked the explosion. But in a country that glorifies individual heroism, he couldn't afford to go head-to-head with Beverly.
The protestors outside the station showed no signs of leaving; in fact, even animal rights and environmental groups had joined in the protest.
"Disperse! And get rid of those troublemakers at the entrance too!"
If they didn't put an end to these protests soon, once nightfall arrived, opportunists would take advantage of the chaos for looting!
Everyone knew the chief was still furious, so they left the meeting room one by one, heads hanging low.
Sheriff Brook, an African American, was also eager to leave, but as soon as he stepped out of the meeting room, he was stopped by Jackson.
This guy was all hyped up and immediately pulled him aside: "Sheriff, I've got a great plan to solve the current dilemma!"
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less"You have an idea too?"
The sheriff looked incredulous. "You should just go back to your vacation as soon as possible."
"Chief, just hear me out first."
Jackson was unusually confident. "Aren't the people outside demanding the police give them an explanation? Let's give them one! What's that saying? 'Better late than never!'"
"Go on."
"Our department already has a bad enough reputation, which is why the public is so angry."
Seeing the sheriff about to lose his temper, Jackson quickly added, "So we need to break things down and rebuild! We should deeply reflect on our previous misconduct, and then recruit Beverly into the department!"
"Are you joking?"
"Beverly made a huge contribution to solving the case, right? She's the one who exposed the murderer, so the victims' families should give her some credit!"
The Black sheriff thought that made sense and motioned for Jackson to continue.
"So, we bring her into the department. That way, we can quickly change the public's perception of us. More importantly, Beverly also lost her child in this recent disappearance case. Her child was even harmed by John before. She can evoke empathy from the protestors!"
Jackson was unusually serious, all because he was determined to get Beverly into the force.
"Jackson, who taught you to say all this? Was it Beverly?"
The sheriff had a half-smile on his face.
Jackson quickly straightened his collar. "I came up with this myself!"
But his shifty eyes gave him away.
This was such big news; how could he possibly keep it to himself? He'd called Randy earlier to spill the beans about the internal police discussions, and after hearing the news, Randy had offered him lots of advice.
But they were just suggestions. Jackson still had to present them himself!
The sheriff didn't call him out, simply patted him on the shoulder. Well, even a fool has a moment of clarity after being foolish ninety-nine times. We'll talk more later."
With that, he turned and went after the police chief.
Jackson stood there, both excited and nervous. Was he finally being given some real responsibility? Randy was right—gold will always shine!
The sheriff approached the chief to discuss the proposal, and after a long time in a private room, the sheriff finally emerged, looking pleased.
"Jackson, come over here. The chief has agreed to this plan. Now, go contact Beverly and bring her to the station right away. Actually, no, go pick her up yourself and have her convince those protestors to leave. As for her position, the chief is going to award her the town's Honorary Medal and appoint her as an honorary senior officer!"
This was a high rank.
Most people join as entry-level trainee officers.
Even regular officers like Mike, who had worked for over a decade, could only hope to become senior officers.
If Beverly joined, she'd skip ten years of work.
Jackson had no objections to her special treatment. Even though he had worked for years and was still a regular officer, he thought Beverly's rank was still too low.
She should be the chief… or the sheriff!
"Don't worry, I'll head to her place right now!"
Beverly had left after giving her statement and checking on Casey, so she might not even know what was happening at the station.
Jackson felt it was his duty to share this good news with her.
He immediately left the station, where a crowd of protestors had gathered, holding signs and chanting slogans.
There were even leaders directing the chants with rhythm, and Jackson almost felt like joining in.
The other officers weren't taking any forceful measures either. They were trying to talk the crowd down, but if things escalated, it would be much harder to manage.
Jackson knew he had an important task, so he quickly drove to Beverly's house.
When he arrived, it was already getting dark. Strangely, the lights in Beverly's living room were flickering continuously.
"Is the light broken?"
Just as Jackson got out of the car, the lights suddenly returned to normal.
"Looks like I came at just the right time!"
Jackson walked up with a big grin. Just as he reached the door, it opened.
Beverly appeared, her face slightly flushed. She was adjusting her messy clothes as she leaned out.
"Jackson, what brings you here?"
"Beverly, I've got some great news for you!"
Jackson beamed. "The chief wants to appoint you as a senior officer! He's also giving you the Honorary Medal. Come to the station with me now."
"Senior officer?"
Beverly looked puzzled.
"Yes, it's all thanks to me. I suggested to the chief that they hire you for the department!"
When Beverly heard this, her attitude cooled. "I'm not interested in becoming a police officer."
Jackson was stunned. He didn't know what to say.
Wasn't this supposed to go differently?
"Anything else?"
Jackson, growing anxious, looked at her, trying to find the words to convince her.
Beverly still looked stunning, but she seemed a bit uncomfortable. She was wearing an oversized sweater like a dress, her bare legs showing, and her feet were exposed.
"Beverly, it's getting cold. You should keep warm."
"Thanks for your concern."
Beverly's expression didn't change, but just as she was about to say something, her face suddenly shifted. She quickly closed the door.
When the door reopened, someone familiar stood in front of Jackson—it was Randy.
"Hey, Jackson."
"Randy, what are you doing here?"
"I'm helping George next door look after the place. Sometimes I take the dog for a walk."
"Is that so? Randy, you…"
Jackson didn't suspect anything. He was about to ask Randy to help persuade Beverly, but Randy offered before he could speak.
"I know what's going on, and I'll help you talk to Beverly."
Randy walked closer.
"Jackson, you know Beverly lost her child. I hope no one mentions that later. You should hurry back to the station and tell the protestors that Beverly will be there soon. She's going to work with the department to help solve the recent cases.
You should also explain Beverly's background to the crowd. Let them know her child, Carl, was also a victim of John, but Beverly is still standing strong, doing everything she can to rid the town of evil."
Jackson nodded enthusiastically. "Exactly, that's the right approach! Randy, you're a genius."
Randy just smiled and patted his shoulder.
"You should go quickly. We'll follow shortly. It'll take time to talk to Beverly."
"Got it."
Jackson, always eager to act, rushed back to his car without even saying goodbye to Beverly. He was determined to clear any obstacles for her.
He couldn't let Beverly be hurt anymore! He had to persuade those protestors in advance!
As he started the car, he glanced in the rearview mirror. The lights in Beverly's house were flickering again, this time even more rapidly.
"Sigh, I should've offered to fix the lights. Oh well, Randy can probably handle it."
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lessBeverly, looked startled, was gasping for air, clearly taken aback by Randy's words.
"Work at the police station?"
Randy firmly confirmed again, "Yes, work at the police station."
Beverly struggled to sit up, her face still flushed. Even though she felt resistant, she nodded slightly.
"Well, I guess I should try to adapt to this job."
"You'll do great."
Randy, smiling, sat down beside her, wiping the sweat from her forehead. "You need to make sure everyone in the town knows you. You're the one who will bring them hope and salvation."
"You make it sound like I'm some kind of savior," Beverly replied.
"Well, aren't you?" Randy responded matter-of-factly. "I chose you, so yes, you're the savior."
Faith doesn't have to come from religion alone; personal admiration is also a way to draw power. Beverly needed reputation, and Randy was going to help her achieve that. But gaining real authority would be a bit trickier, and becoming a public official seemed like a good choice.
Randy had considered stepping in himself, but with his Asian face, he'd be too conspicuous in America and might attract unnecessary attention.
Beverly, on the other hand, was just right. She had a bit of a bad reputation in Derry, but those bad rumors weren't quite stains—they actually served as a foundation for her notoriety.
This was very important.
Imagine how the townspeople would talk about her when discussing the recent big events.
"Did you hear about Beverly? The one who killed her father as a child, then killed her husband after she got married? She easily solved the case of the missing children and even saved one, while the police spent a week with no progress!"
People would be shocked, and then they would recall her past. Those bad rumors would quickly turn around.
With John now taking the blame and Pennywise unlocking the repressed memories, the townspeople would be stunned to realize that in just a week, all these heinous events had occurred, and none of them were solved by the police. They'd surely resent the authorities for this.
And with Beverly's recent heroics, her joining the police force would undoubtedly raise expectations.
The cult leader's approval filled Beverly's heart with warmth, especially as Randy's occasional touch sent shivers down her spine.
"Alright, I'll go to the police station after I clean up."
"Go now."
Randy grabbed her pants from the sofa and tossed them to her.
"This..."
"Obey."
"...Okay."
Beverly felt particularly uncomfortable but obediently followed Randy's order.
After getting dressed, she suppressed her discomfort and knelt before Randy, respectfully helping him put on his shoes. These gestures were ingrained in her very bones.
"Since you're all ready, let's go."
Randy opened the door, and in that instant, Beverly felt a wave of fear but still followed closely behind him.
As they walked, Beverly's steps were unsteady, constantly adjusting her clothes and wiping off any stains on them.
Luckily, it was dark now, so the marks shouldn't be too noticeable.
Randy was very pleased with Beverly's performance today.
She still maintained a high level of independence. When faced with difficulties, she would always think about solutions first, acting calmly without rushing headlong into danger.
The key point was that her obedience remained solid. Even when going against her will, she would eventually be persuaded after a couple of sentences.
In fact, earlier that afternoon when Randy arrived at her house and started undressing her without a word, Beverly didn't resist much. At most, she showed some reluctance before eventually complying.
She was a good candidate for further development.
Randy didn't want to spend too much effort brainwashing her, so implanting a memory with a magical imprint was the simplest way to control her. The only pity was that Beverly couldn't become a supernatural being.
People like Carrie, who was born with magical abilities, or Little Bee, who had been granted divine powers, were not suited for memory alteration.
Modifying someone's memory essentially imposed magic within their mind. If a person never came into contact with cultivation or supernatural practices, they would never become aware of the manipulation.
However, once they encountered cultivation or sensed magical powers, they would naturally detect the anomaly within their own mind.
By the time they approached the police station, the protests had already been temporarily quelled.
"You know what to say, right?" Randy asked with a smile.
"I know. I need their recognition."
Beverly was still the strong woman she had always been. In terms of personality and various abilities, she was top-notch. She even had impressive combat skills. Her only flaw was her bad luck.
The people she encountered were almost always bad, dragging her into endless struggles.
"Keep going. You deserve their admiration."
With one final word of encouragement from Randy, Beverly stepped out of the car.
She walked toward the crowd, quickly surrounded by a group of officers, who escorted her to the police chief. After a brief conversation, Beverly officially took the stage.
A woman—an attractive woman, radiating a unique aura.
Right now, Beverly was absolutely dazzling. It wasn't just because of what she had done today but also her confident demeanor and striking looks, which easily won the recognition of those present.
The parents who had lost their children saw Beverly, once a fellow victim, not only stepping out of the darkness but boldly standing up and striking back against evil. They couldn't help but admire her courage.
"Beverly joining will definitely make a difference."
"She's already better than those incompetent drunks!"
Soon, the crowd of protesters was calmed by Beverly, who would officially start working at the police station tomorrow.
The issue had been perfectly resolved.
Police Captain Brooke was thrilled, as it had been his idea. The chief would remember his cleverness.
Moreover, Beverly would now be working under him, so he could take credit for her accomplishments. Meanwhile, Jackson, who had recommended her, was promoted to Beverly's deputy.
The police captain temporarily dropped his plans to fire Jackson.
"Jackson, you finally did something right," Brooke said.
Jackson beamed with excitement. "Of course! Only someone as smart as me could come up with such a brilliant idea."
The captain immediately frowned, turning away, no longer willing to speak to him.
Meanwhile, Beverly was getting acquainted with several high-ranking officials from the police station: the chief of Derry, along with three deputy chiefs from different districts. The upper-town district, with its separate police station, wasn't included.
She also had to introduce herself to other frontline officers and sergeants, as well as the logistics captain, who handed her a fitted uniform. The handgun would have to wait until tomorrow.
"Shall we throw a party for our hero?" The chief, though not particularly fond of Beverly, remained warm and enthusiastic.
"Sorry, I'm already exhausted today and can't wait to go home."
Beverly hurriedly declined, her expression slightly off, but no one seemed to notice.
"Fair enough, you have been through a lot today."
The others didn't push further. Beverly then turned to leave. Jackson wanted to personally escort her, but she promptly rejected him.
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less"How do you feel?"
After Beverly got in the car, Randy smiled and asked.
"It's a bit hard to get used to. No one has ever looked at me that way before."
Beverly was still pleased, looking at her police uniform, with much more anticipation for the days ahead.
"You'll get used to it soon. Admiration and reverence will become the most common looks you'll receive."
Randy smiled.
Beverly still needed a rise in status. At the very least, the police station should clear out a suitable position for her.
After sending her home, Randy didn't get out of the car with her.
Noticing her confused look, Randy casually explained, "I have other matters to attend to. If you have any questions, feel free to contact me anytime."
"Alright then, so... us?"
Beverly stood beside the car, feeling a bit hesitant, expecting perhaps a goodbye kiss.
But Randy wasn't very interested in that. Kissing? That would imply equality between the two of them.
Instead, he called Beverly back into the car, gave her a kiss on the forehead, and took the opportunity to grope her a bit before sending her out.
Even so, Beverly's legs were weak when she got out of the car, and she walked awkwardly.
After watching her enter her house, Randy restarted the car.
Another flower was about to bloom soon.
Chris was reporting the latest news again. She and Sue were planning to take some people to the pig farm in Southtown tonight, kill a pig for its blood, and then tomorrow, during the school sports day, splash the blood on Carrie while she was in the bathroom, humiliating her in front of the whole school.
Go to Southtown's pig farm to kill a pig for blood? Randy thought of that weirdo, Crazy Dave, who wanted to marry a pig.
Chris and her friends were playing with fire; they might end up dead before they complete their task.
Randy continued scrolling through his phone for more updates. It turned out Crazy Dave would be temporarily leaving town tonight, something Chris and her group had found out during their scouting trip to the pig farm last night.
Chris then shared the next part of their plan: splashing Carrie with blood was just the beginning.
Sue would immediately rush over to comfort Carrie and lead her to the wash basin, helping her strip off her clothes and wash away the blood.
Then, Chris would pretend there was a fire in the bathroom, bringing in a large group of boys. The goal was to have everyone see Carrie naked and to capture her humiliation on camera. In such a situation, Carrie wouldn't even be able to escape, especially with Sue holding her down.
Chris didn't even mind pushing a few boys to assault Carrie. When Carrie's religious zealot mother found out, she'd likely kill her daughter out of shame!
Randy remained silent as usual.
What he wanted was an obedient puppet, not a maniac.
It seemed that tonight, Carrie needed some more... education.
The past few days of brainwashing and training, along with Margaret's assistance, should be enough to make Carrie understand who truly had her best interests at heart.
However, when Randy got home that night, he was stunned.
The fence in the yard had been violently torn down, the word "DEVIL" had been spray-painted on the walls, and even the windows had been smashed.
Randy walked into the house with no expression, opening the door. Fortunately, there were no signs of intrusion inside.
His first thought was that the werewolf from the other day had come looking for trouble again.
But then Randy sensed a familiar presence—Pennywise came down the stairs with a dry laugh.
"Randy, I wanted to stop her, but that woman was strange. My usual methods didn't work on her."
"That woman?"
Randy was stunned, following Pennywise's gaze toward the house next door.
"Yeah, and Carrie was there too, so I didn't dare to make a move."
It turned out to be Margaret?
Randy wasn't too surprised. In the eyes of fanatics like her, doctrine was more important than the law.
He hadn't even gone looking for her, and yet she had come knocking?
Randy chuckled coldly, turning and heading out the door toward the house next door.
As soon as he got close to Carrie's yard, there was movement from inside. Margaret had clearly sensed him.
The front door was thrown open, and Margaret stood there holding a Bible and a crucifix.
"You devil! You're trying to drag my daughter into Hell! Leave this town at once."
If the crucifix had been upside down, Randy might have taken it more seriously. But a properly positioned crucifix? That was just a decoration.
Randy ignored her, heading straight inside. With every step he took, Margaret's chanting grew louder, but it was completely ineffective. Randy simply pushed past her and walked into the house.
Carrie sat nervously in the living room, standing up abruptly when she saw Randy, her head bowed.
"Randy."
Randy didn't respond to Carrie, instead turning back to Margaret.
"Mrs. Margaret, is this how you treat your good neighbors?"
"Damn you, devil!"
"Heh."
Randy didn't bother trying to communicate with her, instead turning his stern gaze toward Carrie. "Kneel!"
Carrie jumped in fright and immediately obeyed, kneeling down while nervously explaining, "Randy, I didn't say anything! I only found out what my mother had done after I got home."
"Are you still trying to argue?"
Carrie shrank back in fear, trembling as she lowered her head.
Randy then turned to Margaret, showing a victorious expression. "Mrs. Margaret, it seems your daughter has better manners than you."
"Carrie!"
Margaret's rage was visible. "Carrie, what are you doing? You're under God's protection! How could you kneel before a devil?"
"That's because you didn't educate her well enough."
Randy mocked her, then moved closer to Carrie, gently stroking her head. "Good girl. I shouldn't have gotten mad at you earlier. I was just so angry at what your mother did."
"I'm sorry, Randy. I apologize for my mother."
Carrie quickly explained, feeling that Randy's apology was so gentle.
"Carrie! How could you?"
Margaret rushed forward, ready to discipline her daughter, but Randy immediately blocked her path.
"What are you doing? Do you intend to harm Carrie?"
"You…"
Margaret, pointing at Randy, exploded in anger. "You leave now, or I'll call the police!"
"Now you talk about the law? Why don't you tell your God to send me away? Or does He simply not exist?"
Randy continued to mock her, though in reality, there was indeed divine protection at play.
When Randy had first entered the house, he intended to control Margaret and toss her aside, but as he was about to act, his danger sense kicked in, warning him that something bad would happen if he proceeded.
That made Randy realize that Margaret might really be favored by God.
No wonder Pennywise hadn't dared to intervene.
She might not have any offensive abilities, but no one could use supernatural powers against her.
"You truly are the devil!"
Margaret's gaze sharpened at this, though her conviction remained unshaken. "Carrie, do you want to go to Hell after you die?"
"She's already in Hell."
Randy smiled and leaned down to whisper gently into Carrie's ear, "Tell your mother what you should call me."
Carrie hesitated, avoiding eye contact, too scared to speak.
Randy continued to coax her softly, "Come on, unless you want to lose me."
Margaret, still in a frenzy, yelled, "Carrie, what are you doing?"
Caught between their opposing attitudes, Carrie reluctantly muttered, "Master."
Margaret nearly fainted, while Randy grinned triumphantly.
Angels are often ugly to scare away devils, but devils are always beautiful to tempt humans.
"You've made the right choice."
Randy lifted Carrie in his arms and headed upstairs.
1
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Show less"Carrie!"
Margaret's heart-wrenching cry echoed.
But Carrie had no response at all; she simply buried her head in Randy's embrace.
"Ms. Margaret, you have many ways to stop me."
Unfortunately, she never got it right even once.
She truly was like an angel, always strict and unyielding, even in the face of the devil. But unfortunately, humanity is drawn to the devil's charms.
"Your daughter needs to grow up; what you should do is bless her, not treat her harshly."
"No!"
Margaret rushed upstairs, chasing after Randy's figure, but unfortunately, her speed was too slow to keep up.
"While you were training your daughter, I was also teaching her a few things, and I must thank you for the foundation you laid."
Randy had a keen eye for people; Carrie was indeed an easy target.
Had he done anything special or put in any effort?
Not at all.
Randy merely chatted with Carrie and made her breakfast, and her affection for him was instantly maxed out.
What else did he do? He simply kept applying pressure on her while showing a gentle attitude.
Along the way, he also lent Carrie magical power to fend off Pennywise's bite.
He even once had a serious expression as he tamed her like a dog.
Randy put so little thought into Carrie that he was rather indifferent.
Because Carrie wouldn't betray him; as long as she was sure of him, even if he hit or scolded her, she wouldn't resist. If he hurt her, she might cry out a few times or dodge a little, but when the pain subsided, she would come over again.
In all of this, Margaret's educational methods were indeed magnificent.
But Margaret could not accept such a statement. How could she have pushed Carrie into the abyss? She had always been teaching Carrie the doctrine; it was the child's own darkness that made her yearn for the shadows.
"Carrie, my daughter!"
She chased all the way to the second floor, but could only watch as Randy carried Carrie into the room and then slammed the door shut.
She rushed up to bang on the door and then headbutted it, continuously calling out Carrie's name.
And inside the room…
Randy tossed Carrie to the floor, then moved closer to tear off her clothes.
Margaret's cries only piqued his interest further.
It was similar to the feeling of caring for the wives and daughters of believers back in the South; the purest evil was the most intoxicating.
But just as Randy was about to strip this little lamb bare, he encountered resistance.
Carrie was gripping tightly, her face already streaming with tears.
Randy frowned, "What's wrong? Don't you want my love?"
Carrie shook her head vigorously but refused to speak.
Today, she had truly collapsed.
Having not seen Randy for two consecutive days, she lacked a mental support system, and on top of that, she had exposed her magical powers, causing her relationship with her mother to deteriorate rapidly.
Carrie's experience at school was not pleasant; Tommy had died, and her bullying had increased, while the teachers turned a blind eye to it.
She was also facing harassment and retaliation from Tommy's family.
Although this incident had nothing to do with her, the family took it for granted that Tommy's death was her fault!
That night, when she returned home, Margaret claimed that the neighbor Randy was a demon and that she had already taken revenge. She intended to use God's power to eliminate him that very night.
Carrie, physically and mentally exhausted, received no care from her mother. In fact, Margaret even attempted to harm her, someone else who was very important to Carrie.
In the end, Carrie chose to cooperate with her mother, trusting in God once more.
But ultimately, she was still let down.
"Are you really a devil?"
Carrie cried out.
Randy did not respond; he simply buried his head in Carrie's body and inhaled deeply the tender scent on her, a floral fragrance—Carrie's very soul seemed to be made of flowers.
Her body was covered in Randy's marks; she was bound to him, unable to betray him.
"How could I possibly be a devil? To you, I am your God."
"Carrie! God is sacred; he would never do such despicable things to his believers!"
Margaret, listening to Randy's devilish words from outside the door, shouted loudly, hoping to awaken her daughter's lost consciousness.
Randy, after being exposed, was not angry; he simply smiled wickedly.
"Wait for God's grace."
In the silence, Carrie accepted this result because if she truly resisted, given her magical strength, Randy would indeed have to put in some effort.
Slowly, Carrie began to sink into it. Yet, no matter how emotionally charged she felt, she still bit her lip, refusing to speak.
This left Randy puzzled.
"Why is that?"
"Because this is evil; it's a temptation from hell."
Randy laughed, "This is clearly humanity's instinct; this is a glorious song."
Then, the high-pitched singing began, further plunging Margaret's heart into despair.
After a long while, Randy was finally somewhat satisfied. Enjoying his spoils, his mood was still quite good.
Randy gently wiped the sweat from Carrie's body with her clothes.
"Remember, from now on, you belong to me; the rights to your body and soul can only be mine. What am I to you?"
Carrie's voice was already hoarse: "Master."
"Yes, I will be the closest person to you."
Randy smiled, and Carrie's obedient demeanor was more exaggerated than brainwashing; he had already sensed that overwhelming, blazing adoration.
Randy walked to the door and opened it. Margaret immediately collapsed inside, while Carrie was startled and quickly pulled up her clothes to cover herself.
"Ms. Margaret, your daughter just made me very happy. Therefore, in her name, I'll give you a way out and won't hold your excessive actions against you."
These words caused a rush of gratitude to surge within Carrie. She felt that her recent efforts were worth it; she had entrusted herself to the right person, at least Randy was willing to tolerate her mother.
In truth, Randy was just bluffing. To act against Margaret would carry a hefty price, potentially attracting God's attention and wrath like the swirling vortex; thus, there was no need for him to act personally.
Given his understanding of Margaret, she had likely resolved to kill Carrie after such a significant provocation. When the time came, Carrie would naturally be the one to end her life.
Sure enough, Randy's words forced the weakened Margaret to support herself again.
"You are truly shameless; you are a rapist!"
"Say what you will. Besides, we're neighbors, so I'll be visiting often from now on."
Randy still wore a mocking expression: "Carrie."
"Master."
Carrie instantly sat up straight, obediently.
"Did you enjoy the experience just now?"
"... Yes."
"Was it voluntary?"
"... Yes."
"Then later, you'll properly enlighten your mother, tell her you're already a woman now."
Call the police? You can call them all you want.
Carrie's face turned crimson, and she nodded awkwardly: "Yes."
Then Randy stepped over Margaret's head and walked out of the room.
Carrie was no longer the little lamb she once was. She looked at Margaret with a determined gaze: "Mom, I've grown up."
Margaret, however, had no response, only hatred filled her eyes.
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