Page 8 of A Hail From Hell: Vol 1

Visually speaking, the Greene’s property wasn’t a land someone would willingly buy even if it was exorcised and cleansed, or thoroughly scrubbed with bleach.

If Evan gave a damn about rationality, maybe he’d have pointed it out. But currently, he was too focused on getting through the exorcism alive, and then getting paid for his dangerous endeavor.

Maybe if he asked Aaron to casually exaggerate this life-threatening case to Celie, she would call Evan. At least to curse him for being irresponsible with his life. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d heard his sister’s voice.

The source of his confidence in playing the victim card was unknown. But his confidence in Aaron for dramatizing little things was immense.

Aaron parked the car outside the dilapidated gates that marked the entrance of the land of the Greene family. Evan flung his backpack over one shoulder and made their way into the woods. Dry leaves crunched beneath his black boots, ears straining to pick up the usual chirping of birds and distant howls of animals.

Nothing.

These woods were as dead quiet as a cemetery at midnight. As if all creatures, other than wandering spirits, had fled the area.

Evan pulled the black coat tight around himself, a chill creeping up his spine as he surveyed his surroundings. The air in this forest was always thick with animosity and traces of resentful spirits. If accidentally provoked, there was no saying what creature would pop out of where. After almost a decade in his profession, this kind of atmosphere hardly bothered Evan. But he wasn’t concerned about himself.

There was a thick-skulled idiot strolling beside him.

Aaron, oblivious to Evan’s hyper-alertness, blabbered his way forward about the long history of the Greene’s bloodline that didn’t really interest Evan.

After a while, Evan cut him off. “Just tell me who the mansion belonged to. I don’t need the entire family tree.”

Aaron chuckled, clapping Evan on the back with a little more force than acceptable. He didn’t mean anything ill by that. It just sometimes slipped Aaron’s mind that his buff physique wasn’t directly proportional to the sunshine smile on his face. That his affectionate “clap” on the back might snap Evan’s spine in two.

“Alright, Mr. Impatient, listen up,” Aaron pulled out a little hand diary from his suit blazer, the book ridiculously tiny in his huge hands. “The cottage-style mansion was built aroundthe 1730s and was first owned by William Greene, a merchant who later became a clergyman of the Old Temple. People say he was spiritually and intellectually gifted, but you know how very smart people tend to be a little weird? Yeah, this guy was nothing different.”

A priest of the Old Temple? That abandoned construction people now said was haunted? What irony.

“Go on.”

“He is said to be the writer of many fairytales famous in Emberlyn. LikeAHail from Hell.”

“That’s a horror story,” Evan fiddled with the ring on his right index finger, the red stone gleaming in the daylight. “Do we know how he died?”

“He drowned in Del.”

Not bad. Could’ve been worse than drowning in a sacred river.

“Why do you ask?” Aaron asked, pocketing his diary.

Evan shrugged, shoving his hands into his coat pocket. “It could’ve been his spirit haunting the place.”

Curiosity twinkled in Aaron’s eyes. “You think so?”

It wasn’t impossible. Humans' attachment to materialistic things was the cause of so many wandering spirits in this world. Some couldn’t let go of their dream house they built with blood and sweat. Others insisted on sticking around the family heirloom to bless their future generations.

All flimsy excuses just because they couldn’t accept death, something Evan found difficult to understand.

Death was so much more forgiving than life, but people feared it. Death came once and rid you of all your pain and suffering. Life, on the other hand, dragged you through misery and torture day after day, over and over again.

When his time came, Evan was certain he’d go without a fight. But until that moment, he had no intention of dying.

Coming back to the topic, it was unlikely that William Greene’s spirit was the one haunting the mansion. Because, one, he’d drowned in sacred waters, which would stop him from turning into a vengeful ghost. And two, so much concentrated malevolent energy couldn’t be the doing of one spirit. There had to be several hundred, at least.

Greene Mansion, the place Evan was hired tocleansecame into view at a distance. A familiar, eerie feeling gripped Evan’s fingers until they stiffened in his coat pockets. The dark mist of energy was still present, coating the creeper-laced brick walls in a dark sheath that was invisible to normal people.

Maybe if the Greene’s could see it, they’d have given up on this place for good.

“What do you see?” Aaron asked softly, and Evan realized he’d halted midway towards the mansion. The force of the dark energy pulsating from the property sat heavily on his shoulders, making his skin crawl.

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