Luke stared at the twitching limbs scattered across the dirt, brow furrowed.
He couldn't just leave the pieces here. God only knew if they'd crawl back together on their own and make things worse later.
He shrugged off his jacket, spread it on the ground, and started wrapping the severed pieces inside.
Jason's size made that impossible with one piece of clothing.
Luke peeled off his undershirt, knotted the neck, and turned it into a makeshift bag.
Even that wasn't enough. A few chunks still wouldn't fit.
He scratched his head, then spotted the torn strips of Jason's rotten clothes lying nearby.
They'd been shredded by bullets and axe blows—perfect for tying.
Luke gathered the remaining at, bundled it tight with the cloth strips, and hung the grisly packages from his belt. Axe in one hand, shotgun in the other, he slung the two heavy sacks over his shoulders and started walking back to camp.
He glanced down at his bare chest, streaked with mud and Jason's thick black sludge. It clung to him like tar.
A sudden image flashed through his mind—Reynard the Fox from the old stories, stealing fish and tying them to his body to carry ho for his kids.
Luke let out a short laugh.
At least he still had a sense of humor.
He walked into camp exactly like that.
Everyone had gathered in front of the main cabin. The mood was heavy.
Eddie was babbling, trying to describe what he'd seen. The raw terror on his face said more than words ever could.
"A monster… hockey mask… ca out of the lake…"
Nancy and Glen listened in horror. They'd thought Freddy in their dreams was the worst possible nightmare. They hadn't expected sothing even more direct waiting in reality.
Ethel clenched her fists so tight her palms were slick with sweat. Her eyes kept darting toward the tree line.
Then a calm voice ca out of the woods.
"Get the kids back inside the cabin. Don't let them co out."
Everyone jumped, then relaxed when they recognized Luke's voice.
Ethel didn't waste a second. She herded the curious children back into the cabin and locked the door.
The rest followed the sound toward the edge of the trees.
"Ah!"
The second Nancy saw Luke she scread.
He was shirtless, skin streaked with dirt and dark stains. Two bulging sacks hung from his shoulders. More grisly bundles dangled from his belt.
Worst of all—every single one of those packages was still twitching.
"Luke… you…"
Ethel pointed at him, words failing.
"What the hell are those things hanging off you?"
Luke didn't answer. He simply dropped the heavy sacks onto the ground. They hit with a wet thud and writhed even harder.
"Today's catch was a real pain in the ass."
He said it like he'd just co back from fishing.
Then he looked at the stunned teenagers.
"You three—go to the well and bring back a few buckets of water."
"Oh—yeah, okay."
Glen was still staring, mouth open. The order finally snapped him out of it. He grabbed two friends and ran for the well.
Soon buckets of clear water arrived. Luke had them pour everything into a large wooden barrel they used for cleaning the barn.
He walked to the barrel, pulled out his Bible, and began reciting quietly over the full container.
[Holy Water LV1 (286/1000)]
The water was ready.
Luke scooped out several ladles and washed himself from head to toe.
No one wanted to take chances with whatever bacteria a corpse that had been underwater for decades might be carrying.
Only after he was clean did he step up to the sacks and rip them open.
The slowly writhing chunks of at spilled out in plain view.
"Ugh!"
Glen was the first to break. He grabbed the nearest tree and vomited until his stomach was empty.
Nancy took one look, rolled her eyes back, and dropped straight to the ground.
"Eddie. Co here."
Eddie flinched at his na but forced himself forward on shaky legs.
Luke pointed at the ss on the ground.
"That's the guy who killed your sister. If you want revenge, get over here and help. We're throwing all this into the barrel."
Eddie looked at Luke's calm face, then at the horrifying pieces. Fear told him to refuse.
The words died in his throat. His sister's smile flashed through his mind.
If he backed down now, every year he'd spent hunting this monster would beco a joke.
All the hatred and grief turned into raw courage.
"Alright."
No more talk. The two n worked side by side, tossing every chunk of at into the barrel of holy water.
The mont the flesh touched the liquid it sizzled and smoked. Black vapor rose in thick clouds.
Once the last piece went in, the entire barrel began to boil violently.
Luke's eyes narrowed. The resentnt was strong. He needed more power.
He stepped to the barrel, placed both hands on the rim, and recited the Bible at full volu.
Minutes dragged by.
Everyone watched in tense silence, terrified the monster might reassemble itself right in front of them.
Finally Luke stopped, frowning.
Not because the job was done. The holy water's effect was fading fast—like sothing was neutralizing it.
He grabbed a ladle, scooped out the murky liquid, and stared into the barrel.
The holy water was gone.
At the bottom lay a dense layer of bones. All the flesh had been burned away.
But the bones were still trying to regenerate.
Tiny buds of new at would appear on the surface only to be instantly dissolved by the remaining holy water. Over and over.
"Sothing's wrong. These bones are very wrong."
Luke stared hard at them.
He wasn't so trained exorcist. He only knew how to hit things hard.
This thod clearly wasn't enough.
An idea hit him—the strange old woman at the grocery store.
She'd talked about spiritual energy and sensing things. Maybe she knew sothing useful.
Luke quickly scooped the bones into a clean sack.
He had everyone draw another bucket of well water and turned it into fresh holy water.
[Holy Water LV1 (386/1000)]
He gave the group clear instructions.
"This water works the sa as the bottled stuff. While I'm gone, watch anyone who starts falling asleep."
"If it happens, pour the water straight down their throat and splash the rest on their face. It should hold until I get back."
Once everything was ready, Luke filled a few empty mineral-water bottles with the new batch for backup.
He threw the supplies into the pickup, started the engine, and drove hard toward town.
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