Chương 32: Chapter 31: Dangers of Succumbing

The old man walked up the porch of a two-story red brick home and opened the front door with a light push.

"Get in, and don't touch nothing." Micheal and Marco followed the man inside. A humble living room greeted them, complete with a smoking furnace, an old, lightly torn sofa, and a faded wooden table. The old man groaned and plopped down on the sofa.

"Take one of those chairs, and sit down," the old man said. Marco grabbed two spare chairs from the right and placed them in front of the sofa. The two of them sat down, Micheal leaning slightly forward.

"Could you give us your name, sir?" Micheal said.

"You don't give names to strangers, son," the old man said.

"But you'd let two strangers in your house?" Micheal frowned. The old man chortled.

"You could do a lot more than you think with just a name. Anyways, would you like some tea?"

"No, thank you." Micheal shook his head.

"I don't got no tea anyways." The old man grinned. A dry, half-forced chuckle left Micheal's throat. Is there something wrong with him? The old man crossed his legs and said, "So… you said you're private investigators. What's that got to do with the Gaudins?"

"Are you aware of the awakened?" Micheal said. The old man scratched the back of his head.

"I think yeah… something about the children going insane. I don't really pay attention to the news these days." He suddenly froze halfway.

"Wait… their other kid was one of them, wasn't he?"

"Jack Gaudin," Micheal said.

"Yeah, big Jack." The old man sighed.

"That poor kid. I don't think he knows what happened to his family." Micheal nodded.

"We're investigating the families of the awakened. The Church hasn't been keen on informing the victims. We're just helping someone get some closure."

"Well, if you've got this far, that means the Church doesn't mind you snooping around, yet. What do you want to know, son?" the old man said.

"Let's get the obvious out of the way. What happened to the Gaudins?" Micheal said. The old man reclined into his sofa and took a deep breath.

"A while back, the bakery stopped opening. We heard some weird noises at night inside, and a day after that, there was a rancid smell coming from the windows. We don't like the Inquisition, but someone had to file a report. Those dogs broke down the front door, and then there were screams and gunfire. They barricaded the place and left with the bodies." Marco's face twisted in disgust, while Micheal listened intently.

"That's horrid. You don't know what happened before that?" Micheal said.

"I don't, and I don't want to know. Do you have any other questions?" the old man said.

"One more thing. Did the Gaudins… ever have a history of Blasphemy?" Micheal said. The old man furrowed his brows.

"You're sounding like an Inquisitor now. What is Blasphemy, really?"

"Not in the sense you're thinking of. Even if they're just rumors, slander, I want to know if anyone had ever thought the Gaudins were Heathens," Micheal said.

"A few years back, there was quite a commotion in the neighborhood." The old man rubbed his eyes. Micheal leaned forward, cupping his palms together.

"Someone saw old Black sacrificing a pig in one of the alleys. It led to Inquisitors swarming the place like flies to a rotting corpse. But it never really got anywhere. Just plain old paranoia doing its work. We never really found out who handed in the report. Probably for the better," the old man said. It's just like the Baruchs and the Austigs. They all have histories of Blasphemy.

"I see. That's all we needed to know, sir. Thank you for your time." Micheal stood up, gesturing for Marco to follow.

"You're not gonna break into that place, are you?" The old man raised his brows. Stolen novel; please report.

"No, not at all." Micheal shook his head and shot a warm smile. Yes, yes we are.

"Make sure no one sees you." The old man sighed.

"We don't need the Inquisition swarming the neighborhood again."

"I'll keep it in mind." Micheal walked out of the front door. Marco followed closely behind him, closing the door as they stepped onto the porch.

"This don't sound good, Micheal." Marco clenched his fist.

"The Inquisition already raided the place. It's safer than you think," Micheal said.

"Let's just be careful. I don't want to be stumbling into some demon," Marco murmured.

"There ain't gonna be no demon. Now, let's go around the alleys. A bakery that large is bound to have a fire exit somewhere." Micheal murmured and hurried into the alleyway right beside the bakery. His eyes roamed about the old mottled walls, spotting a small balcony, with an extendable iron ladder hanging from the side.

"There we go."

"How are you gonna get up there?" Marco whistled.

"Not me. You. Just climb up that pipe over there, and hop onto the balcony." Micheal pointed at the large metal pipe running down the other side of the alley wall.

"Why do I always have to do the climbing?" Marco clicked his tongue.

"Because if you fall, I can catch you. If I fall, the only thing catching me would be concrete. Now get up there, boy, before someone sees us."

"Fine. Fine." Marco grumbled, and he grabbed onto the iron pipe with both his hands and feet and began shimmying up. Once he reached the end, he turned his head toward the balcony and looked down at Micheal.

"You're gonna catch me, right?"

"Yeah. Go on," Micheal said. Even if I don't, I'm sure he'd survive. Probably not in one piece, but he'll live.

"Alright." Marco took a deep breath and leaped onto the balcony, nearly slamming into the wall.

"I made it!"

"Now let the ladder down, boy," Micheal said.

"Uh… how… how do I do that?" Marco leaned over the railings, his face twisted in confusion. He can climb a pipe, but he can't lay down a ladder. What the hell.

"There should be a little hatch on the side. Just kick it," Micheal said.

"I… I see it. Here goes nothing." With a loud thud, the ladder screeched and extended all the way down to the ground. Micheal chuckled and quickly went up the ladder. When he reached the balcony, he saw Marco waiting by a wooden door. Micheal grabbed the doorknob and gave it a twist, but all he heard was a loud clicking.

"Damn. Let's see if I can't break it open." Micheal reached into his side bag, grabbing a small metal rake pick with a crooked notch end.

"I can melt it if you want."

"No, no. That would be too obvious. Hopefully I can rake it." Micheal plunged the rake into the keyhole and began dragging the hook across the mechanisms again and again. It clicked open at the fourth drag, and the door creaked slightly open. Micheal peeked into a long hallway. The sunlight trickled in from above him, illuminating the blood stains across the wooden floor. He pulled out the revolver on his waist and stepped inside.

"Give me some light, Marco."

"I thought you said it'd be safe." Marco snapped his fingers, and a wisp of fire appeared down the hallway, lighting up the place.

"Like you said. I'm just being careful. Stay behind me." Micheal strode down the hallway, the floorboards creaking beneath him with every step. A wide-open door lay just ahead, blocking the rest of the hall. With gun in hand, he pushed it in just enough so that he and Marco could pass through. The wisp of fire floated into the dark room before them. Two beds sat side by side, claw marks and scratches covered the soggy wallpaper, and the curtains slouched in a shredded heap by the window.

He walked in and peered out, seeing a dark alleyway beneath them.

"No bullet holes. It didn't happen here." Micheal stepped out and looked down the hallway. The shattered remains of a door were scattered along the floor. Beside it was the doorway, and further ahead was a stairwell that likely led to the bakery proper. He held his gun tight and continued on, and he swore he heard Marco murmur some ancient prayer behind him. The wisp flew through the doorway, revealing a deep trail of blood ending in a massive splotch of crimson over the wall.

Micheal stepped inside and felt his stomach sink. The bed on the right was drenched in dried blood, and dozens of bullet holes were carved into the walls in every direction.

"What in God's name happened here?" Micheal muttered. Marco gagged behind him and looked away.

"Goddess… I can't…" I have to use my sight. It'll just be quick. Just when the Inquisitors arrived.

"I'm going to look into the past. You should back down, Marco," Micheal said.

"Okay… I'll be waiting." Marco covered his mouth with his hand and hurried to the balcony. Here goes. Micheal stepped to the side of the room, his back against the wall. He clicked his tongue, and the world around him shifted ever so slightly as he gazed back in time. He quickened the reversal and stopped when he saw masked Inquisitors appear before him.

They aimed their rifles at a blurry creature standing in the middle of the room, its arms wide open, its face twisted beyond recognition as if it was screeching at them. Behind it was a mangled corpse, and there was yet another on the bed. What the fuck is that? A revenant? Micheal didn't dare look further back. Instead, he approached the creature and realized it was wearing human clothes. A faded white shirt and long brown pants. It could only mean one thing: it was a person.

The bodies here, they must be Sir Gaudin and his wife. But there were also two beds in the other room. One must have belonged to Jack, and the one… he must have had a sibling. The room back there was torn apart, like a wild beast had run amok. But this isn't a beast, this is a person. Eyes red, snarling, and if it killed two grown men with just its hands, it must be quite powerful. He knew the answer, but it left an awful taste on his tongue. It's a succumbed. That's the older sibling. But how?

Let's think this through. The beds were right by each other. That means… if Jack awakened, then the other sibling could have also awakened. Just like Eliza. But why did he succumb… is it because of the awakening? That can't be… but… Eliza was exhibiting minor symptoms when I found her. And the Cathedral took those children because they could endanger others. Micheal stepped back as a bolt of realization thundered down his spine. Oh Goddess… tell me I'm wrong.

He sprinted down the hallway and emerged onto the balcony. Without missing a beat, he leaped off the railings and landed in the alley below, the concrete cracking beneath his feet. Marco stumbled backward, his eyes widening in shock.

"What happened up the—""Come on! We're going to the Baruchs! Now!"