American Horror Story: A Tale of Terror from Silent Hill

Chapter 124 Kechimen

Jeremiah Ketchum.

An old white man wearing a tall hat, who had once been a pastor, later tortured and killed dozens of Native Americans in his basement.

Ketchum captured them, subjected them to brutal torture and murder, and finally slit his own throat.

After his death, Ketchum remained in this old house. A year ago, he instigated Ronnie to kill his family, creating a massacre.

Now, Baling has moved in as well.

Upon entering, Ketchum intended to treat Baling like an Indian, first frightening him, then slowly torturing him, and finally cruelly killing him.

Damn it! Such an evil person must be dealt with severely.

The girl, Judy, told everything she knew.
Baling chuckled and poked her head, preparing to thoroughly clean the house tonight and chase away all those stubborn creatures who wouldn't leave.

now.

Four elderly Native Americans with yellowish skin and black hair had arrived at the door.

They were sent by Kechimen specifically to torment Baling.

Each of the four Native Americans was a large, muscular man dressed in very little clothing, with crisscrossing scars on his body.

What he held in his hand was the instrument of torture that had once been used on him.

"Boy, I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry, my fellow countrymen."

"Bite your teeth."

"Jie Jie Jie!"

The Native Americans had no choice but to obey orders to plunder Baling.

The girl, Judy, frowned, quickly untied the rope, and then climbed up to the ceiling.

Looking at the four faintly aura-filled spirits, Baling remained completely unmoved.

An opponent of this caliber, if he gets serious, could kill a whole bunch of people with one punch.

Since his strength increased, Baling has concealed his aura very well. If he doesn't release it, some weaklings won't be able to detect how big the gap is between them and Baling.

"Unable to discern the difference in strength..."

Baling casually grabbed a vase and walked towards the four Native Americans.

The Indians roared and charged forward in unison, their chains, hooks, whips, and branding irons aimed at Baling.

boom!
The vase crashed down on the head with lightning speed, knocking the black-bearded Native American to the ground. With a cracking sound, the spirit's head was smashed into its chest cavity, and the vase replaced its head.

"Boss! How could this be..." A crew-cut Native American was shocked, but before he could finish speaking, Baling's hand struck.

Snapped!
With a single palm strike, astonishing power generated a gust of wind.

There was no time to dodge, and he was struck by the palm.

The flat-headed Indian's head immediately began to spin like a top.

The other two were shocked and furious, but the die was cast and they had no choice but to proceed.

In the next instant, the iron hook and branding iron, accompanied by a chilling wind, came crashing down simultaneously.

Baling looked at the approaching instruments of torture with disdain; they were too weak and held no interest whatsoever.

Baling remained stationary, yet his body floated as nimbly as a piece of paper, and no matter how they tried, they couldn't touch even a corner of his clothes.

"It's full of flaws, it's unbearable to look at."

Baling gave a cold sneer, and with a flash, he passed through the gap between the iron hook and the branding iron, rushing in front of the two men.

The roc spreads its wings!

His arms suddenly spread out, and his strong, powerful arms swept across.

The two Native Americans were suddenly thrown into the air, their spirits flying like passersby. The next second, they were deeply embedded in the wall, in a strange and twisted position.

"Croak! Wow, that's strong!"

Judy, who was in the center of the battle, was dumbfounded. Even though she had guessed that Baling might be very powerful, it was still not as shocking as seeing it with her own eyes.

After watching Baling single-handedly dominate the entire arena, Judy was so frightened that her legs almost went weak. Suddenly, she and Baling, who was looking up, couldn't help but exchange a glance.

A chilling sense of danger washed over her, making her shiver involuntarily. "Gah! Don't hit me, don't hit me!"

Baling: "Hehehe!"

"I can do it myself!"

Judy fell from the ceiling with a thud, rolled several times on the floor, and crashed into the corner with a thud. She stuck out her bluish-purple tongue, stared wide-eyed, and pretended to be defeated.

……

lost.

They all failed.

"A bunch of useless trash."

In the basement, the house's former owner, Ketchum, was cursing angrily.

It had to be him personally who took action. Kechimen picked up a short sickle, rushed out of the dark basement, and prepared to deal with Baling, this outsider.

However, it is no longer needed.

After a loud bang, the bricks shattered and stones flew everywhere.

The wall separating the basement collapsed with a crash, and amidst the rising dust, four awkwardly positioned Native Americans led the way.

"Sir, this way."

They looked somewhat like guards, but more like lackeys; the four of them stood respectfully on either side.

A moment later, a menacing-looking black-haired man slowly strode in, followed by a little girl holding a Monokuma toy.

"Betrayal, a shameful betrayal."

Kechimen's face was dark and grim. He hadn't expected that these victims trapped in the old house would dare to betray him, who held an absolute advantage.

"Looks like I was too kind. You ungrateful bunch, prepare to suffer."

As soon as Kechimen finished speaking, his figure disappeared, and the next moment, a blood-red scythe appeared before Baling's neck.

Kechimen's half-body protruded from one side of the wall, and with a swift pull of his sickle, he would slice Baling's body in two.

With the sharp edge of his sickle, Kechimen was confident that he could sever Baling's head with a single stroke, leaving him a headless corpse.

Kara!
A flash of cold light, a chill on the neck, and the head fell off the neck, rolling to the ground with a thud.

"How...how could this be?"

The tall hat was stepped on and stomped under the shoe, and Baling suddenly had a sickle in his hand.

In just a split second, I grabbed his wrist, pressed down and twisted it, and then easily countered with a flick of my wrist.

The difference in their values ​​is too great.

Looking at his familiar body, Kechimen was incredulous. He had been here for so long, yet he was instantly killed!
He was about to say something when suddenly he felt a sharp pain in his forehead as the blade of a sickle pierced his skull.

Baling straightened up, used his sickle to retrieve Kechimen's head, and put it back on his neck.

"Oh? Thank you."

Kechimen was surprised to find that Baling was actually a good person who helped put the head back on.

"You're welcome."

Baling held a semi-transparent heart in his hand, and with a squeeze of his five fingers, a meager amount of power was absorbed into his body. At the same time, he also gained control of the old house.

Kechimen stared wide-eyed at the large hole in his chest, his soul suddenly becoming unstable.

His power was rapidly declining, almost to the bottom, and the surrounding houses were no longer welcoming him alone, nor under his control.

Tonight, he has almost lost everything.

……

Ocean Avenue, 412.

In a secluded basement with walls separating it from any outsiders, a place no one else could find.

This is where Kechimen is located.

He has indeed lost a lot, but tonight, he will also gain a lot.

(End of this chapter)