World Of Hurt
World Of Hurt
The drive to the Carey House felt like it took forever. The truck’s tires churned through flooded roads, sending sprays of muddy water against the undercarriage with rhythmic wet slaps that echoed the tension in the cab. Kane gripped the steering wheel tightly, his bruised knuckles white against the worn leather. The pai he felt in his body was ntothing compared to the one he felt in his heart; the loss of a fellow teammate.
The light of the day filtered through the fog. It was pale, glowing sickly. Everything looked gray and washed out, and it matched the strong silence between Kane and Vera. The truck's inside smelled like damp leather, and dried blood... same blood from Kane's earlier beating. There was also the fear that stuck to both of them like it was a second skin.
Vera sat in the passenger seat, staring out the window at the flooded fields and submerged fences sliding past. Her mind was a storm of guilt, worry, and exhaustion. The bite on her arm throbbed in time with her heartbeat, a constant reminder of Orishirishi’s touch. She kept replaying the deal she had made—the second dagger for Sandra’s safety. It had felt like the only choice at the time. Now, with the demoness gone and the girl supposedly safe, the weight of that decision pressed down on her like the low-hanging clouds overhead. She had been played, and it had costed them so much.
Kane glanced over at her, his voice quiet but steady. “You okay?”
Vera nodded without looking at him. “Just thinking.”
“About the deal?”
She exhaled slowly, the sound heavy in the confined space. “Yeah. I let her go. I stepped into that circle. If I hadn’t…”
“Don’t,” Kane said firmly, his hand reaching over to squeeze hers for a moment. The touch was warm, grounding. “You did what you thought was right. You need to stop thinking about what happened, at least stop blaming yourself. The girl truly was taken, and she truly could have died. You did the right thing, and you stepping into that circle didn’t make things worse. She would have found a way to escape regardless.”
Vera squeezed back, but the guilt didn’t ease. The truck bounced through another deep puddle, sending a spray of water across the windshield. The wipers squeaked loudly as they cleared it, the sound grating on her already frayed nerves.
They finally pulled up to the Carey House, the old Victorian structure looming like a decaying sentinel against the foggy sky. The paint was peeling in long, sad strips, and ivy crawled up the walls like veins on a corpse. The air outside smelled of damp wood, mildew, and the faint, briny tang of the nearby river. Kane killed the engine, and they stepped out into the chill morning, boots sinking slightly into the muddy ground.
The front door creaked open as they approached. Kivior stood in the doorway, fully dressed and ready, his preacher’s coat clean and his expression calm—almost peaceful. He looked like a man who had made peace with the world, despite everything. He just stood there with a pensive look on his face, undisturbed by anything.
“Kivior,” Vera said softly, stepping forward. “Are you alright?”
The preacher nodded, his voice steady. “I am fine. We suffered a great lost very recently but there is still work to be done.”
Kane’s eyes searched his face. “I’m so sorry about Lina. If there was something more we could have done, I—”
Kivior raised a hand gently, dodging the question with quiet grace. “What do we know about the demoness’s plans now that she has both daggers?”
Vera hesitated, then told him everything. Kivior listened without interrupting, his face a mask of quiet resolve. There was a lot of speculation, but no real detail as to what was coming next. At this point, it seemed like anything was possible and they ought to brave themselves for greater troubles heading their way.
Before they could say more, Vera’s radio crackled to life. One of her officers stationed by the river was on the other end, voice urgent. “Sheriff, we found an old woman floating by the river about two hours ago. Frail but still alive. We’re rushing her to Greenly Bay Medical Haven right now.”
Vera’s heart skipped. “Oh, my God! I’m on our way. No matter what happens, make sure that woman is kept alive.”
“Roger that!” The officer answered before cutting off.
Kivior nodded. “Then that is where we go next. Follow the trail. Find out where it leads and do what needs to be done when the time comes.”
They climbed back into the truck and sped toward the hospital, the flooded roads slowing them down but not stopping them. The drive was tense, the silence broken only by the splash of water and the occasional creak of the truck’s frame. Whoever this woman was waiting for them at the hospital, they could only wish that she was a piece of the puzzle that they needed to solve.
.
.
.
Greenly Bay Medical Haven was a small, aging building on the edge of town, its white walls stained by years of floodwater and neglect. The smell of antiseptic and old linoleum greeted them as they pushed through the doors. A harried doctor met them in the hallway, his white coat wrinkled and his eyes tired. He looked like he was ready to spring bad news on them, and what he said next wasn’t what Vera wanted to hear at all.
“Sheriff, the woman is still unconscious. She can’t have visitors right now.”
Vera’s voice was firm. “I only want to identify her. It won’t take long.”
The doctor hesitated, then nodded reluctantly. “Five minutes. No more.”
“Five minutes will be more than enough.”
They followed him down the sterile hallway, the fluorescent lights buzzing overhead like angry insects. The smell of bleach and sickness hung in the air, making Vera’s stomach twist. They entered a small room, the beeping of monitors filling the space. Just as Vera had hoped for and suspected, the woman in the bed was Eleanor Hawthorne.
She looked frail and broken, her skin pale and bruised, tubes snaking into her arms. But her eyes were normal, although they were currently closed—no longer black voids. Orishirishi was gone. Eleanor was free… but she looked like she was in a world of hurt, her body trembling slightly even in unconsciousness.
Vera stared at her, a mix of relief and dread washing over her. The demoness had left her host. But what did that mean for the town now?