American Horror Story: A Tale of Terror from Silent Hill

Chapter 133 Going Home
At that moment, in a daze, Rowling once again witnessed the story behind the Scarecrow.

In a church illuminated only by candlelight, Rowling sensed an omnipresent evil.

Her psychic radar sensed it—evil, terrible evil!

"Heaven creates all things to nourish man, yet man has nothing to repay Heaven! Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill!"

A scarecrow with a pair of deformed, strong arms on its back, a masked figure with a pointed head, wielding an axe in one hand and a knife in the other, stirred up a bloody storm among the crowd.

Limbs were torn apart, bones were shattered, and flesh was turned to mush... The church had become a bloody slaughterhouse.

Each believer was like a fragile dandelion, easily scattered in the midst of this violent slaughter.

My nasal cavity was filled with the metallic smell of rust, and the warm blood splashed on my face, the sticky sensation as it slid down, felt so real.

Rowling couldn't breathe, couldn't move, and could only watch helplessly.

The piercing screams and pleas for mercy echoed in her ears. The sounds of bones cracking and flesh shattering reverberated in her brain.

demon!

An extremely cruel demon!
Good heavens! What kind of evil creature did they encounter?!
The surging barbed wire pierced and tore through human bodies like a raging tide, while the cultists' desperate cries kept Rowling on edge.

She didn't know what kind of expert or demon the newcomer would be, but she knew that what had happened in the past could not be changed.

"Hallucinations are all illusions. Don't be afraid, don't be afraid, use your willpower to overcome them."

Rowling murmured to herself, giving herself a strong self-suggestion.

Time passed by, bit by bit.

Unbeknownst to her, Rowling's face became stiff as ice, her back teeth clenched until they ached. After enduring the hellish carnage, a cold remark plunged her into an icy abyss.

"Oh! There's one left here."

The tall, imposing scarecrow, expressionless, raises a long, heavy cleaver.

"It's fake...it's fake..."

Her teeth chattered uncontrollably, and Rowling was at a loss. Her limp body collapsed to the ground, but she had nowhere to retreat.

Behind her was a corner wall; the dim lighting had delayed her death.

But death will eventually come.

The cleaver, stained with thick blood, cleaved through the air, and a round head rolled off with a thud.

Before she died, Rowling saw it by the light of a candle.

The head belonged to an old man with graying hair, his wide eyes filled with terror.

"Ahhhh——!"

Rowling, in the passenger seat, suddenly screamed in terror, her body trembling uncontrollably, cold sweat soaking her forehead and making her look extremely haggard.

"Lowling!"

Ed slammed on the brakes, the tires leaving black marks on the ground. Rowling lurched forward, but was bounced back into her seat thanks to the seatbelt.

"Are you alright? What happened?" Ed asked with concern.

Rowling's face was contorted with pain and fear, but she did not reveal what she had seen.

He just shook his head blankly... shook his head.

Looking in the rearview mirror again, Rowling could clearly see that the little scarecrow with its big head was sitting safely in the back seat, still wearing a big smile on its face.

But its eyes were lifeless, showing no sign of sudden shock or surprise.

It was as if it had been sitting there obediently, and that what had happened before was none of its business.

The most striking thing is that he is innocent.

Innocent?
He was not entirely innocent, but it was not something he did voluntarily.

Baling said he would not take the blame for this.

Damn it! It's all Rowling's fault for having such good psychic abilities; she accidentally became a psychic again and saw parts of Baling's past.

If this body hadn't been severely injured, and Baling hadn't been unable to control himself properly, this wouldn't have happened.

Sigh! It's all Ed's fault for firing indiscriminately.

Baling had originally planned to throw the match, feign defeat and arrest, then use the opportunity to infiltrate the Warrens' home and scout out the buffet restaurant beforehand. Unexpectedly, the other side showed no sportsmanship, suddenly firing a shot. Baling, caught off guard, failed to dodge.

This led to a slight deviation in the subsequent plans.

But it's alright, it's just a minor injury. With time, everything will be fine.

Speechless all the way.

Monroe, Connecticut, Warren's home.

Colorful lights illuminated the room.

On the bed, in cute strawberry-patterned pajamas, a short-haired little girl lay on her side, looking at the wall with boredom.

Her name is Judy, and she is the daughter of the Warrens.

Judy couldn't sleep because she was worried about her parents, until she heard the sound of a car engine outside.

She knew that her parents were back.

Judy quickly got out of bed, not even having time to put on her shoes, and ran to the window at the top of the stairs, quietly gazing at the front yard.

As soon as the Warrens parked their car, an old friend, Father Gordon, came out to greet them.

Upon receiving the notification, he arrived at the Warrens' house early, ready to do something big that night.

Little Judy saw through the window that her mother, Rowling, took a small doll from the back seat, closed the car door, and slowly walked into the house.

To be honest, the last time the priest was home early at night was the night he laid Annabelle to rest.

Judging from the current setup, there's no doubt that the creature about to move in must be an extraordinary evil entity.

Tap tap!

The red door opened, and Lorraine, the mother, held a small doll, which turned out to be a tiny scarecrow, smaller than Judy's teddy bear.

Father Ed held an old-fashioned music box; that was their haul for the day.

They went straight to the collection room.

The remaining content is not available to Judy.

Logically speaking, she should be fast asleep in bed right now.

To avoid being discovered by her mother, Judy carefully returned to her room.

At this moment, in the collection room.

After turning on the lights.

In the dim light, the house was filled with all sorts of things, including cursed objects, ritual items, and dolls and armor that were sealed or contained evil spirits.

Behind each of them lies a bizarre and terrifying story.

Countless items have been stained with human blood.

And tonight, a new member will join the family of this collection room.

"Fear the Lord, and turn away from evil..." the priest prayed.

"Amen." The prayer was over.

"Lowling, where do you think it should be placed?"

Looking around the room, Ed was at a loss.

Originally, he intended to have a priest hold a prayer ceremony to further suppress evil and reduce the scarecrow's ferocity so that it would not cause trouble.

However, on the way back, Ed noticed the troubled look on his wife's face and realized that he couldn't put it away in the usual way.

So, after the priest prayed devoutly and sprinkled holy water, Ed asked Rowling for her opinion.

"This scarecrow is very fierce; it's a powerful and cruel demon. It shouldn't be left unprotected."

Rowling solemnly held up the scarecrow in her hand.

“But now, in our collection room, the most secure thing is…” Ed’s gaze couldn’t help but shift to the glass cabinet where Annabelle was placed.

(End of this chapter)