I created the myth of the Great Old Ones.

Lu Ban saw that the people surrounding that person were also a person.

This man was also wearing a suit, but he was tied up on a bed. He did not struggle, but instead showed a fanatical expression, showing no fear.

The people surrounding him had devout expressions, and those next to them handed them gleaming silver knives, one to each person, just like diners waiting for a whole roasted lamb.

Suddenly, as the music stopped, everyone stopped what they were doing. They seemed to be deep in thought, and then they all looked up at the direction of the camera.

Looking beyond the television screen, Lu Ban was watching a videotape.

"What are you looking at?"

Behind him, a voice made Lu Ban turn around immediately, and he found it was James.

The dim lights on the dashboard illuminated his face, making it appear ashen, like that of a dead man.

"The contents of this videotape..."

Lu Ban pointed to the television. Only then did he realize that the screen had gone black at some point, and the media player had stopped running. Everything that had just happened felt like an overly realistic dream that Lu Ban had just experienced.

"What's wrong with the videotape?"

James moved a little closer, and the light cast a slightly menacing shadow on his face.

"Let me confirm."

As Lu Ban spoke, he was about to turn on the TV to check the contents of the videotape.

"Never mind, it's too late, I'd just disturb their sleep."

James stopped Lu Ban, lay down next to his girlfriend Valerie, and naturally embraced her graceful body.

On the other side, Wes stubbed out his cigarette and climbed into the car.

"what happened?"

He glanced at Lu Ban, who was still lying down.

"No problem."

Lu Ban shook his head and lay back down.

He didn't fall asleep immediately, but slowly got up after hearing a soft snore from the other side.

Lu Ban reached out to the media player, about to press play, when he heard voices.

"Director Lu Ban, what are you doing?"

Scott, who was driving, glanced at the rearview mirror and asked.

"There's new content on the videotape. Let me check."

Lu Ban spoke frankly, and he was also observing Scott's expression through the rearview mirror.

"Really? That's amazing."

Scott responded, but he was driving and didn't do anything further.

"Why don't we wait until morning to watch it together? I'm also very interested to see what happens next."

Hearing Scott's words, Lu Ban thought for a moment, nodded, got up, sat in the passenger seat, and asked again.

Do you know anything about 'sacrifice'?

"You mean what that old man said? I'm not sure, but it's not a comfortable word to use."

Scott glanced at Lu Ban beside him, but remained focused on driving.

The road ahead stretched endlessly, but the fog obscured the view, allowing visibility to be less than ten meters ahead. Beyond that, there were no stars, no moon, and no human lights, only a vast expanse of white fog rolling in, seemingly concealing something that caused unease.

"You're from Miskatonic, you should know a lot about film festivals."

Lu Ban asked again.

"The film festival is organized by Miskatonic University. I didn't have the opportunity to go there when I was a child, but it doesn't have a good reputation in my hometown."

"The public opinion isn't good?"

“Yes, as you know, Miskatonic is just a small city that has gradually become isolated due to the decline of agriculture. The people in the city don’t like outsiders and are unwilling to leave the city. But Miskatonic University is different. They started the film festival in order to attract students and increase their reputation. This is not a good deed in the eyes of the people of Miskatonic.”

Scott slowed down so he could focus on the conversation without constantly worrying about drunk drivers taking the wrong lane and crashing into him.

“The Miskatonic people don’t like outsiders. They are a self-contained community. People like me who go to Boston to study are considered heretics in their eyes. I don’t really like the atmosphere there either, but it’s still my home. People always have to go home.”

Scott sighed.

"You can also choose to have your parents leave for a big city; Boston is a great option."

Lu Ban suggested.

"Perhaps. Let's get back to the film festival. The people of Miskatonic like things to stay the same, but the people at the universities like things to change. They've changed some traditions. I can't say whether that's a good thing or a bad thing, but in any case, Miskatonic is completely different from when I was young."

Scott's tone carried a subtle nostalgia, as if the cobblestone path he used to run barefoot on as a child had finally been smashed and paved with cement and asphalt, and the low, damp bungalows had been transformed into beautiful apartment buildings. He had returned here, but this place was no longer home.

“But none of that matters, Director Lu Ban. All I want to do now is make our movie properly. Maybe to you, it’s just a poorly made movie by a few college students. Maybe there’s no audience and no applause. But no matter how bad or clumsy the movie is, as long as it can be successfully made, I’ll be satisfied.”

He muttered to himself, and only when he spoke of this did Scott's eyes truly light up.

Chapter 771 Idols

As dawn broke, the surroundings finally became a little brighter.

Although it was still shrouded in thick fog, visibility had improved considerably.

Lu Ban glanced at the time; it was already seven in the morning.

It was cold outside. The fog itself was formed by water vapor condensing when it encountered tiny particles in the air. At this moment, the white fog looked like it was made of ice crystals, and it rattled against the car window, making a soft sound.

He was about to go online when he suddenly realized he had no signal.

"Does your cell phone have a signal?"

Lu Ban asked Scott, who was waiting for the others to wake up so he could take over the shift. After yawning, Scott decided to pull over to the side of the road.

"No, it seems we are still some distance from Miskatonic."

Scott glanced at his phone and shook his head.

"I'm going to get a drink of water and wait for them to wake up."

He took a bottle of water from the car's refrigerator, took a big gulp, and wiped his face with the water, seemingly becoming more awake.

Lu Ban also got out of the car.

He took a breath of the hazy air and felt his lungs burning.

Scott didn't smoke; instead, he picked up a camera and started filming the surrounding environment.

Lu Ban looked at him alone, then shifted her gaze to a more distant place.

He saw that the gray fog seemed to be dissipating.

"Ok?"

Lu Ban saw that a building seemed to have appeared in the fog.

"Look."

He pointed ahead, making Scott turn his head.

In the fog, a pointed-roofed house appeared as the fog dissipated; it resembled a church, with a pointed roof and stained glass windows.

However, the church looks like it has been abandoned for a long time.

"what happened?"

At the entrance of the RV, Wes yawned and slowly got out of the vehicle.

“There’s a church there, and a road sign.”

Scott said that there was a road sign next to the church indicating that Miskatonic was less than 20 kilometers away.

"This church looks nice."

Wes looked up at the church. If a proper church was full of sacred meaning, then this church was obviously more dilapidated and had a slightly eerie feel to it.

"Hey, get up, James, we've found something good."

He immediately went back and woke up his companions, while the other three were still sleepy and hadn't reacted yet.

"Let's go in and take a picture, let's go."

"Wes called out, and he quickly pulled Scott along."

Lu Ban followed them into the church.

It turns out that the church was indeed abandoned, as the rest, except for the front view, had collapsed, whether due to years of disrepair or natural disaster, is unknown.

Tornadoes are easily generated in such wastelands, and those gales sweep through farmland and pastures, easily destroying even houses.

The dilapidated bench, weathered and worn, its wood long since mottled, the prayer platform collapsed, and faith was gone.

Scott's camera panned and quickly focused on the statue behind the pulpit.

Normally, such churches should not have statues of gods.

In churches, what is used for prayer is usually either a cross or some other object; it is rare to see a specific statue of a deity.

But this church has a tall statue of a god.

The statue looked as if it had been ravaged by wind and rain. The originally grayish-white statue had become somewhat dirty and slightly damaged. The camera panned down and captured the face of the statue.

This should have been a statue of the Virgin Mary, who should have been holding the infant Jesus in her arms. But now the statue is empty, not because of the wear and tear of time. The cross-section of the statue is very clean, as if the thing in her arms had come to life and crawled away on its own.

The face of the statue was fine, except that the eyes were covered by a black cloth.

The black cloth was obviously put on later; it covered the statue's eyes, adding a touch of darkness and eeriness to the originally sacred statue.

"Damn, this statue is awesome!"

"Wes called out. He moved closer, stepped over the collapsed pulpit, came to the statue, reached out and touched it, feeling its rough texture."

Why was she blindfolded?

As he spoke, he began to climb onto the statue.

"Wes, what are you doing?"