my cthulhu game

Chapter 238 Only a trace of dust remains

St Michael's Chapel.

This is the oldest surviving chapel in Arkham.In the [-]th century, pious citizens bought this Baptist chapel, and the towering spire is the most conspicuous symbol of the skyline.

Standing at the door of the chapel and looking into the distance, there are rows of brick houses all over the rolling hills, even mixed with old Georgian style houses that were built a long time ago and have been crumbling.

Compared with the deliberate oldness of the 21st century, every house here has a mansard-shaped roof.Many impoverished Irish and Polish immigrants live here, and when the times are bad, the church's alms will become an important source of income for them.

With the donation from a philanthropic old banker, the church also built a shelter at the foot of the mountain to give the homeless poor a shelter from the wind and rain.

confessional.

Old Foster the banker sat at one side of the room.

The old banker is 70 years old this year.When he was young, he came to this church on the top of the mountain almost every day, but as he got older, it became more and more difficult for him to visit this church on the top of the mountain, and he gradually reduced it to once every three days, and finally once a week once.

In the eyes of outsiders, Old Foster has done his best to Arkham Town: his Arkham First Bank helped many Arkham people in financial crisis, but he himself fell into business difficulties.Only Old Foster himself, still often complains that what he has done is not enough.Even his children began to worry about whether he would give away all his property in his will after his death.

The chapel was silent at night.

Foster was an old acquaintance with Father Paul Sheehan, who was in charge of the chapel.For many years, in the small confessional room, separated by a partition, the old Foster could speak freely and confide the dark secrets in his heart, and Father Paul Sheehan has been faithfully fulfilling his duty, never revealing anything Anything Foster said.

Gradually, the two no longer followed the red tape of those ceremonies, just as two old friends chatting casually, remembering the past time.

But today, Old Foster keenly realized that the person on the other side of the partition was not Father Paul Sheehan.

The air smelled of dust.Old Foster didn't wear his own reading glasses, his eyes were dim, and the candlelight flickered like a butterfly's wings back and forth.

[Foster detection check failed 60/40]

"Father Sean is ill," said the voice from the opposite side, showing that he was also an old man. "Let me listen to your confession."

Foster Sr. was not suspicious.Father Sheehan's health also deteriorated.I really don’t know which of the two old friends will make the first move.

"Well," said old Foster, "God bless poor Father Sheehan, and may he get well soon."

"I will pray for him, and so will you," the "old priest" across the partition cleared his hoarse throat, "So, do you have anything to say?"

Foster is a little strange, this "priest" looks very weird.Perhaps Father Sean had talked about his affairs with this old colleague, and the other party knew his identity, so he seemed extra casual and relaxed.

"I don't know if you're from Arkham," said old Foster, starting his characteristic chatter mode. "You know, I used to come to this house of worship when I was a kid. It's still here. Owned by a Baptist church, the pastor who presides over it is a middle-aged man who likes to collect books. Oh, and I stole a book from him, and then the chapel changed owners. I don't know who to return the book to, Had to donate it to the library."

"Thaumaturgy and Strange Stories in the Promised Land of New England" by Howard Phillips." The old man on the other side of the partition said hoarsely.

Old Foster was startled: only he and Father Sheen should know about this, and Father Sheen is not someone who would tell other people's stories everywhere.But, on second thought, it's not such a big deal.

Maybe it was because the climbing process was too exhausting, sleepiness and weakness occupied the old Foster's body.

"I was obsessed with these strange books," said Foster Sr. "I soon regretted it deeply."

"The reason you regret this is not because you stole the book." "Father" Furui Fubo.

"I……"

"The reason you regret it is because you discovered that something inside might be true."

Old Foster's body trembled suddenly, and even his dizzy mind became clearer.

His old waist is getting more and more painful.

He suddenly had a suspicion:
Father Sean, how much did you tell this man...?
This old man didn't look like a priest, and he didn't look like an ordinary citizen who was pranking or sitting in the wrong seat.

"Did you also hear what Father Sean said?" Old Foster finally asked.

"You just need to declare your crime." The person opposite did not answer the old Foster's question.

In the confessional, the smell of dust grew stronger.It's time to clean up, really...

"If you don't say it," seeing that the old Foster was silent, the voice of the old man on the opposite side became louder, "then I will speak for you."

"you……"

Foster felt something bad in his heart.

An unseen force was eating away at his body - and he hadn't realized it until now.

[Foster's physical examination failed 99/35]

The old banker wanted to get up, but his body, like a dying patient, refused to obey his will.

"As you grow up," the person on the other side said in an unchanging dry tone, "you begin to think that those evil wizards only exist in books. However, the reality is not what you wish..."

Old Foster reached into his pocket.It was empty—he remembered that he would never carry a gun to church.

But the other party, the old man who seemed to come from the void, continued to speak without mercy.

"...Finally one day you also met one of the wizards. His name was Edmund. Edmund Bigby."

"Why are you……"

"You committed an unforgivable crime against him. At first you were curious about his power, and he also regarded you as an apprentice and follower; but you gradually feared his power..."

Old Foster tried to move the chair away from his body, but his legs had long given up.From the partition pane, a dry, wrinkled, mummy-like arm stretched out, tightly grasping Old Foster's right hand.

"...This is the most shameful and despicable betrayal. You and your friends created a magic seal to suppress the old wizard's power, and then attacked him secretly. However, even if you tried your best, you still could not destroy his Immortality. You inflicted all the punishments and tortures you could think of on the poor old wizard, and in the end..."

Old Foster struggled desperately, but it was all in vain.He was too weak, and all his efforts just knocked over the candle.

"...Do you remember? Or let me help you remember?"

(End of this chapter)