SrCuervo
patreon
8
🕑 Added 2025-06-16 05:46:49 +0000 UTCA simple priest... Or so I thought
Chapter 8 – Humanity Always Makes Mistakes
On the top floor of the auditorium, inside a luxurious private room, a flamboyantly dressed man in a black suit stood in front of a window, watching the crowd enter the event.
"Frederick, what exactly is being exhibited this time?" asked the man who appeared to be the host—Henry William, a man with a peculiar obsession with supernatural objects.
Frederick, who wasn’t far behind in extravagance, held a glass of whiskey while scanning the event program. "The famous demon hunter's rifle, supposedly belonging to a family of hunters; a knight’s sword from the era of the Theocracy; Middle Eastern talismans; and some totems, though I honestly doubt they’re real."
Henry sighed, a little disappointed, as he took a sip of his drink. "If it cost us several million to gather those relics just to see if they’re authentic, I fear it’s impossible to ever get our hands on anything from the Warrens’ museum."
"It doesn’t matter. The Warrens may have those cursed items, but that’s only because they’re the weakest in presence and power. It’s fortunate that The Healing Church doesn’t get involved in events like these; otherwise, we wouldn’t be able to keep doing what we do."
"If they show up, they’ll kill us!"
"Don’t panic, Frederick. We’re in control. The visionaries attending this event are nothing more than amateurs."
"It’s risky to perform the ceremony..."
"Yes, but I enjoy the thrill." Henry was planning a ceremony to toy with evil, hoping to summon an ancient supernatural being.
As a man with great power and wealth, Henry had experienced and enjoyed so much in life that listing it all would be tiresome.
But the most striking moment in Henry’s life was when he witnessed a ritual where powerful people did everything they could to contact the supernatural.
Some societies worshipped demons as gods, offering them sacrifices. Others believed themselves to be gods. However, Henry was looking for something more entertaining.
Why hide from other people?
They had power, they weren’t doing anything illegal, and all they wanted was for everyone playing with the supernatural to actually see what truly existed in this world.
“We are not afraid.”
"Do you know the Church’s stance on all this?" Henry asked a man standing behind him.
"The Vatican sent a letter stating that even if any cursed object turns out to be real and is found at this event, a high-ranking member of The Healing Church will take care of it."
Henry seemed a bit excited upon hearing this and tilted his head back to down his entire glass of wine.
"Yes, it’s been five years! We’ve been lurking within the Anomalous Council and have finally been waiting for this day."
If Jonathan knew that there were wealthy people eager to play with a force they barely understood, he would undoubtedly walk away from this place.
Humans, like any intelligent species, were diverse creatures. Many made mistakes out of pride, others out of arrogance—and with people like that, there was nothing to be done.
For everyone else, it would be a great relief if they died—only then could those who truly wished to live their lives away from any contact with the supernatural do so in peace.
However, as is often the case, there were people everywhere who wanted to play god.
…
Outside the exhibition hall.
“Anomalous Council—quite a fitting title for an organization tasked with monitoring and deciding how to act against the supernatural world,” Jonathan said, reading the small book he had been given to learn everything about The Healing Church and its affiliated organizations.
“Healing Forces Special Units… I suppose they do everything but heal supernatural beings.” Jonathan’s laughter drew the attention of people nearby.
He was pretending it was his first time here, and just a few minutes ago, he had broken every lock in the auditorium.
At the entrance, a welcome sign marked the registration point for those entering the event’s most privileged area.
The first hour was for open interaction and trade among independent attendees, after which the main event would begin.
Jonathan walked down the hallway, glancing from side to side, thinking about his chances of surviving in extreme situations.
The wide space, decorative paintings, and luxurious carpets all spoke to the opulence of the place.
By that time, the hall was already filled with people chatting among themselves.
Jonathan looked around to see what kind of people gathered in places like this.
Several women dressed as witches held crystal balls.
There were also men in checkered shirts fiddling with electronic devices at their desks, creating custom profiles of fictional characters that would play roles in this event.
Some wore armor; others carried swords.
But the most striking feature of the room was a gathering in one corner, where a large group had formed.
"She’s a famous seer. They say she can see your future."
"She’s also one of the people responsible for organizing this exhibition."
Jonathan never underestimated people—especially in this new world, where anything one could imagine might actually happen.
As he approached the crowd, Jonathan’s cold eyes caught sight of a young woman with beautiful features.
“No way, am I really getting married to a billionaire at 19?” The excited voice of a girl burst from the crowd.
A boy, clearly just trying to mock her, said with a smirk, “He’s probably an old man.”
“Haha!”
Jonathan’s cold expression was natural; he wasn’t trying to appear mysterious. He was serious, cautious, calculating. Perhaps overthinking everything gave him a certain presence that made him stand out to anyone who looked at him.
“I really like your outfit, man. Are you playing an exorcist? If so, you look awesome.” A boy dressed as a zombie praised Jonathan’s outfit and snapped a few pictures.
“Don’t do that…” Jonathan wanted to stop him, but before he could be more direct, others in the crowd started looking at him.
“He looks awesome!”
Jonathan was about to leave when he felt a dark presence—so dark that his eyes turned cold in an instant. Without hesitation, he walked over to the girl reading tarot cards and sat down.
“Do you want your fortune read?” The girl, named Haley, looked at Jonathan nervously. She seemed frightened—no, anguished.
Jonathan looked at her closely; she seemed like someone who hadn’t slept in days. He asked her seriously, “Do you actually want to read the cards?”
“I wish I hadn’t…” Haley kept her friendly smile and placed a simple tarot deck on the table, but before she could begin the reading, Jonathan took the cards in his hands.
“I didn’t come for a reading. I came for something you have—something dangerous.” Jonathan grabbed Haley’s wrist, and without anyone knowing what he was seeing, a message appeared on his attribute panel:
“[Mission in progress...
Class: Evil Elimination
Objective: Remove a curse that may trigger the summoning of a Dark Age demon.
Reward: +10 General Strength, +50 Spirit Points, and a mysterious ability.]“
With the new skills he had gained, Jonathan could clearly feel something dark and grotesque behind Haley—like a final fate awaited her.
That thing felt his presence too. It grew stronger, as if challenging him.
Jonathan glanced at Haley’s purse but made no further move. Instead, he asked, “Do you know you’re cursed?”
“I don’t know how you know that... but judging by your outfit, I think you’re the person I’ve been looking for—someone who can help me with this nightmare.” Haley understood that Jonathan, recognizing the evil that plagued her, could help her escape the curse she had brought upon herself.
“Can you give me the object first?” Jonathan’s calm eyes stared into hers. She nodded but added, “Not here. Let’s go somewhere more private.”
Jonathan agreed, stood up, and left the area with Haley, leaving the curious crowd intrigued by the scene between the priest-like boy and the fortune teller.
“They’re tarot cards…”
“I understand. Playing with cards that aren’t yours is a serious offense—especially when they belong to a witch. The pact made with those cards is something you can’t even begin to imagine.” Jonathan had no intention of stopping the curse—not yet.
Facing a demon was the most interesting way to test the power of The Healing Church. As he sealed the hand-drawn cards, he listened to Haley’s story.
While working, Jonathan asked her, “Tell me everything in detail.”
“It all started as a celebration. There were seven of us... me, Grant, Paxton, Paige, Madeline, Lucas, and Elise. We went to an old mansion in the Catskills for Elise’s birthday. We never imagined that something so innocent would turn into a nightmare.”
“In the basement, Elise found an ancient tarot deck, wrapped in a dusty box. I... I knew we shouldn’t touch it. I told her it was a bad idea—that you should never use a deck that doesn’t belong to you. It’s one of the most important rules of tarot.”
“But Elise insisted. She said it was just a game. In the end, I gave in. I read cards for everyone. Each person got one… and it was like sealing a fate. That night, we awakened something.”
“After that, they started dying. The deaths… They matched the cards they had received. Horrific. Specific. It wasn’t a coincidence. The deck was marked by something dark—something that fed on our destiny.”
“Until now…” Haley paused, tears streaming down her face. “Three of my friends are dead… Elise was first. Then Lucas… then Madeline. None of us have been able to escape the fate the cards assigned us.”
“I don’t want to die, Father. Not like this. I need to know how to break it. I need to save the ones who are still alive.”
With the help of a rosary, a few prayers, and holy water, Jonathan finished his preparations. Then he turned to Haley and said, “You’re lucky. You might survive—if you meet my conditions.”
Jonathan recognized this type of curse. It was extremely complex to study without the proper knowledge.
But he knew the best way to eliminate the curse was to trap it when it manifested.
That’s why he performed a simple prayer, provoking the tarot demon assigned to Haley.
After stepping out of the bathroom, Jonathan dialed a number on his new cell phone. In his characteristically cold voice, he said, “This is Jonathan Belmont. I require a cleansing team to initiate a containment operation. A disaster is imminent—we expect the manifestation of an ancient demon at an event.”
“Zz... An elimination team is en route to your location. Containment protocol will begin.”
Without another word, the call ended, leaving Jonathan silent and still.
Was that it?
He hoped he hadn’t been misled about his privileges as an exorcist priest and hunter. For this mission, he was relying heavily on the help promised to him with just one call.
