Morse landed heavily on the ground with a loud thud.
The people outside immediately went on alert.
The officers reached for their holstered guns, slowly approaching the inner room, ready for battle.
Mercal shouted anxiously,
"Mr. Morse, are you alright?"
Morse quickly put his glove back on and responded loudly to the others outside,
"Don't come in! It's right in front of me!"
On the ceiling, the evil spirit quietly huddled in a corner, its glowing green eyes fixed on Morse with a chilling intensity.
The officers outside halted. After all, normal people couldn't see the evil spirits, and their weapons were useless against them.
Rushing in would only increase the danger.
But evil spirits couldn't move freely either.
Once they attacked in a specific area, they were bound to it.
If no one ventured into that area, the spirit would be left without sustenance.
If it tried to escape all at once, it would be repelled by an invisible force.
The creature had only attacked once, and the fight had quickly ended, suggesting that it might be a lower-ranked spirit.
Morse recalled the earlier scene, roughly estimating the creature's rank in his mind.
But just then, the fingered monster above suddenly wrapped its hands around its head, and its body began to slide toward the living room, like a bar of soap.
Morse swiftly turned to look at the living room.
There were severed fingers there as well, confirming that the creature's range extended throughout the entire house.
Even though bullets couldn't harm the evil spirit, the sound of gunfire would still startle it.
"Shoot at the ceiling!"
While drawing the handgun from his waist, Morse shouted at the officers outside.
The police outside quickly fired several shots into the ceiling, but since they couldn't see the evil spirit, they had no idea if their shots had any effect.
Just as Morse was about to make his move toward the living room, he realized that his legs and arms had been stuck fast by those blood-red fingers.
They clung to him like a writhing mass of chewing gum, slowly wrapping around his entire body.
"Run! Get out! Now!"
Before Morse could finish speaking, his body was suddenly dissolved into a pool of blood, seeping into the cracks of the floor.
"Mr. Morse, are you okay?"
Mercal called out again into the inner room, but this time, he got no response. Instead, he felt something pulling at his scalp and clawing at his fingers.
"M-Mr. Mercal, your…your head…"
One of the officers stammered, his trembling hand pointing toward Mercal's head.
Normally, people without special abilities or sensitivity to spirits couldn't see evil entities. But when someone was on the brink of death, they too would see the spirits.
At that moment, everyone present saw the terrifying evil spirit.
"Hehehe, such beautiful hands, such beautiful joints…"
The spirit above slowly whispered, inching closer to Mercal.
The next second!
A searing pain shot through Mercal's hands, as if his bones were being torn straight from his flesh.
Mercal hadn't even fully reacted before his body collapsed involuntarily.
He looked at his palm, realizing that all five of his fingers had been brutally torn off, leaving not even a hint of bone behind.
Blood sprayed across the room, drenching the people inside, painting their faces red. The nearby furniture was also splattered with the vivid crimson.
At that moment, his palm looked like a piece of fabric torn apart, fluttering helplessly in the wind without any support.
He wanted to scream, but his brain couldn't process the command.
All he could do was collapse on the ground, staring in horror at the evil spirit in front of him as it devoured his fingers.
The spirit, much like someone savoring a steak, cradled the five fingers in its hands. It opened its skeletal mouth, chomping down on its gruesome meal.
Though it had no teeth or proper mouth, the sickening sound of chewing filled the room.
"So delicious! But...I'm still not full.
Could someone kindly offer me more beautiful, tasty fingers?"
The spirit lifted its head, scanning the room.
The officers, finally snapping out of their shock, raised their guns and fired at the spirit.
Bullets flew from their barrels. The evil spirit flinched slightly but soon turned its gaze back to the people present.
The bullets passed right through the spirit, punching holes into the wooden wall behind it.
The spirit slowly extended its hand toward Mercal, then vanished from everyone's sight.
Moments later, it reappeared in front of them, its hollow belly still pulsing with wriggling fingers.
The spirit turned its head, focusing on a nearby officer.
The officer's body trembled, sweat and tears streaming down his face.
"P-Please...don't kill me…"
Before he could finish, the spirit's eyes shot out two fingers, which pierced straight into the officer's eyes.
His already bloodied face streamed with new rivers of blood.
His body quivered uncontrollably, the excruciating pain rendering him unable to scream.
The eyes suffered a severe shock, with fragments flying out from the corners, including half of a shattered eyeball.
On the far right, an elderly policeman slowly aimed his gun at his comrade, intending to end his suffering quickly to spare him from further pain.
But just as he was about to pull the trigger, a massive hole was suddenly punctured in the old policeman's abdomen.
Blood and internal organs spilled out, staining his lower half a deep crimson.
Immediately after, his hair began to fall out, and his scalp gradually dissolved. The next moment, the old policeman collapsed, a complete and bloody brain sliding out from his head.
"Ah, ha ha, this is what I wanted!"
The spirit joyfully danced around, as if performing a dance with a partner.
Only two policemen remained at the scene.
One, who was closer to the door, tried to open it while the spirit was distracted.
However, he soon discovered that his legs seemed uncontrollable, rooted to the spot like a tree.
Warm liquid began to pool around his feet.
He looked down and saw two leg bones protruding through his black pants.
"This party cannot have any guests leave."
The spirit extended a finger, making a silencing gesture toward the policeman.
Then its head, like a rubber ball, fell from its shoulders.
Now, only one young policeman was left at the scene.
The spirit did not rush but instead waved his hand.
The severed hands of the corpses crawled toward the spirit like spiders.
The young policeman clutched his stomach, the horrific scenes not only shocking his vision but also challenging his physiological limits.
Unable to hold it in, he began to vomit uncontrollably.
The spirit turned its gaze to the young policeman. "What, are you hungry too?"
Just as the spirit was about to strike, a powerful hand gripped its light, ethereal head.
The hand crushed it instantly, sending countless fragments and dust exploding into the air.