Harris looked around the church warily. The once quiet atmosphere had now become tense, the air growing heavier and colder. Every tick of the bell sounded like an invisible force pushing them closer into the darkness that enveloped the church. Several officers whispered softly, fearing that they were being confronted with something they could not understand.
Miller, still holding the small cross around his neck, began to shiver. "Sir, this... this is no coincidence. I think we should get out of here."
But Harris stood his ground, his eyes never leaving the bell symbol carved into the altar. "No. We have to finish this. We can't let this go on."
Suddenly, the sound of footsteps came from a dark corner of the church. Everyone froze, and Harris raised his hand, signaling for silence. They heard a familiar laugh, which began to echo around them—it was not a human laugh. It was a deep, sinister laugh, filled with hatred.
"How funny," the voice of Joculor Tenebris said, breaking the silence with a tone full of contempt. "Do you think you can stop me?"
From the shadows in the corner of the church, a tall figure in bright clothes and jingling bells emerged. Joculor Tenebris stood with his hands raised, staring at them with a blank, hateful stare. The wide smile on his face grew more terrifying as he appeared.
"Who dares interrupt my laughter?" he said in a trembling voice, a mix of human and something much darker. "Who dares interrupt my game?"
Harris and Miller readied their weapons, though both knew that ordinary weapons would probably not be enough to fight such a creature.
"Joculor Tenebris..." Miller whispered, his voice shaking. "We know who you are. We will not let you continue..."
Joculor laughed loudly, the sound of his bells ringing faster. "You think you can stop me with words and weapons? I have sacrificed many lives. And you—you are part of my next game."
Suddenly, Joculor raised his right hand, and the bells on his clothes rang so loudly, echoing throughout the church. The church lights shook, and dark shadows began to creep, forming giant hands that charged toward the officers.
"Stand back!" Harris shouted, ordering the other officers to retreat. But before they could move, the shadowy hands held them down. Everyone who was held by the shadow felt their bodies grow heavy, as if trapped in a darkness they could not fight.
"Joculor!" Harris shouted angrily. "If you want to play, we are ready to stop you!"
With the last of his strength, Harris fired a shot at Joculor, but the bullet missed its target. The dark shadow absorbed the bullet, and Joculor only laughed harder, as if accepting the challenge. "No one can stop me, Detective. I am the last laugh. I am the end of everything you know."
Miller, who was about to give up hope, suddenly remembered something Agatha had said—that the book they had found could be the key to stopping Joculor. "Dr. Hawthorne!" he shouted. "That book! Can we still use that book to stop him?"
Hawthorne, who was standing outside the church with Agatha, heard it, and they quickly ran towards the slightly ajar door of the church. Hawthorne held the old book tightly. "I hope this book still has the power to fight this darkness."
With quick steps, Hawthorne and Agatha entered the church, facing Joculor. "This book is the key to defeating you, Joculor," Agatha said in a determined voice.
Joculor turned with an evil smile on his face. "Try it, old man. I've been in this world long enough to know that it can't beat my laughter."
However, Agatha opened the first page of the book and began to read aloud, albeit tremblingly. As she read, the light from the pages of the book began to radiate, brighter than before.
Joculor looked shocked. "No... that's impossible!"
The light grew stronger, and the bells on Joculor's body began to ring faster, as if trying to fight the light. However, the louder the bells rang, the brighter the book's light became.
"This... can't..." Joculor shouted, his eyes blazing with rage. "I won't lose!" Suddenly, Joculor's body began to tremble violently, his body splitting into a swirling black mist, trying to escape the light. The bells hanging from his clothes fell one by one, ringing softly as it hit the floor.
Finally, with a terrible explosion, Joculor Tenebris shattered into a dark mist that simply disappeared. The atmosphere in the church fell silent, with only the sound of the ringing bells lingering in the air.
Harris, who had been released from the dark shadows, stood up, breathing heavily. "Did... did we succeed?"
Agatha looked at the book carefully. "Yes," she answered slowly. "We succeeded... for a while."
However, even though Joculor Tenebris had been destroyed, a deep sense of dread still filled the air in the church, for they all knew that the evil force might not be completely gone. Like the bells that continued to ring, Joculor's laughter might one day return.
Just as everything seemed to be calming down and the officers began to feel a little relieved, the heavy atmosphere suddenly changed. The dim light from the church that had previously been plunged into darkness began to reflect strangely, and the creeping cold felt piercing again. Agatha, who was still holding the ancient book, felt something strange.
Suddenly, an excruciating pain spread to her chest. Agatha fell, her body shaking violently as if attacked by something invisible. Her face seemed distorted by the gripping pain, and her entire body shook, as if a greater evil force had once again possessed her.
"Agatha!" shouted Hawthorne, who immediately ran to the old woman. "What happened?!"
However, Agatha could only shiver, her hands raised, trying to reach something she could not reach. Slowly, with an expression that looked confused and frightened, her tired and burdened eyes began to open wide, as if seeing something incomprehensible.
Then, something terrible happened. From within Agatha's body, a sound like a very loud heartbeat was heard. Inexplicably, Agatha's heart seemed to be torn from her body, leaving in a way that could not be explained by the laws of nature.
The heart rose, spinning in strange movements in the air, before finally falling to the church floor with a deafening sound. Everyone who witnessed the event was silent, stunned by the unexpected miracle.
Agatha fell to the floor, her body growing weaker. "What... what happened?" she said hoarsely, her eyes rolling as if still trying to comprehend what had happened.
"Agatha!" Dr. Hawthorne shouted, kneeling beside her, trying to hold her body as it began to collapse. "Please tell me what happened!"
Agatha struggled to look at him, her lips trembling. "Joculor... Joculor Tenebris," she murmured weakly. "I hate him... I... I have carried that hatred inside me for too long."
Dr. Hawthorne was shocked, "What do you mean?"
Agatha held her empty chest, where her heart should have been. "I... I cursed myself with my hatred for him. I paved the way for him to return, to take over my body. By hating him, I gave him power. His power is not only in his laughter and his bells. He can take... even the heart of someone filled with hatred."
Hawthorne fell silent, processing Agatha's words. No one could have imagined that Joculor Tenebris, with all its darkness, could affect someone's soul so much that they lost the essence of their life.
Slowly, Agatha's body began to weaken. Her face was pale, and her breathing became heavier. "My heart... is detached from my body," she said in a soft voice. "Because I hate him too deeply. Like his bells that never stop ringing, my hatred continues to echo... and that is what brings destruction."
Before Hawthorne could respond, Agatha's body limply collapsed. Her breath stopped, and her life left her, leaving her body now feeling cold.
"Agatha..." Hawthorne held Agatha's hand tightly, feeling his helplessness. "You were the last thing we could hope for… but now, even you have fallen."
On the other side, Harris and the other officers could only watch, not knowing what to do. The darkness, temporarily defeated, crept back, reminding them that the terror of Joculor Tenebris was not truly over.
"He is still here," Harris said loudly, his eyes focused on Agatha's heart lying on the floor. "He may be gone, but the darkness he brought will never be. Perhaps this is just the beginning."
Before they could continue their conversation, however, the bells lying on the floor began to chime softly. Even without the figure of Joculor Tenebris in sight, the chimes sounded like a warning—a reminder that the deadly laughter was never truly gone.