The last of the chaos finally died down.
Luke let out a long breath, the tension of the past few days easing for the first ti.
A choked sob cut through the sudden quiet.
He turned toward the sound.
Paki was on her knees, clutching Lionel's severed arm to her chest, crying like her heart was breaking.
"Baby, what are we gonna do?"
Lionel stood beside her, completely lost.
He stared down at his empty right sleeve, then at his sobbing girlfriend, mouth opening and closing with nothing coming out.
The stump was a ragged ss of torn flesh and jagged bone.
Weirdly, it wasn't bleeding much—just a dull, throbbing ache that felt almost unreal.
Luke started forward, but the fire truck door swung open and the old lady stepped down.
"Granddaughter, what are you crying about?"
Paki lifted her tear-streaked face.
"Grandma, can't you see what happened to Lionel? He won't even be able to eat properly anymore."
The old woman glanced at the wound and sighed.
"His body was turned into a voodoo doll years ago. It's not like a normal person's anymore. This is barely a scratch."
"A scratch?" The young firefighter's eyes nearly popped out. He pointed at the arm in Paki's lap, stuttering. "That's an arm, Grandma! His hand is gone!"
The old lady ignored him and looked straight at Paki.
"Just a scratch. Hand it over."
Paki hesitated, then passed the severed limb to her grandmother.
The old woman took it, gave it a casual shake like she was dusting it off, and waved Lionel closer.
Everyone watched in stunned silence as she pressed the raw end of the arm straight against his stump.
Lionel hissed through clenched teeth at the sudden grinding pain of bone on bone.
Then the old lady began chanting—low, rhythmic, and strange.
The wound started moving on its own.
Flesh twisted and reached out from both sides, knitting together in thick ropes of new tissue. Skin sealed shut in seconds, leaving only a faint pink line that faded to nothing.
Lionel stared at his arm in shock. A warm rush flooded through him. The pain was gone, replaced by a strange, pleasant itch.
He flexed his fingers, then made a tight fist.
It felt exactly like before.
"My God…" Paki covered her mouth. Fresh tears spilled down her cheeks as she threw her arms around her grandmother. "Grandma, you're incredible! Why didn't you ever tell ?"
The old woman patted her back, half exasperated.
"Hmph. Rember when I tried to teach you? You said all that 'woo-woo stuff' was boring and you wanted to learn guitar instead."
Paki's face went bright red. She stuck out her tongue.
"I… I thought it was all just silly tricks."
The old woman sighed again and started checking the rest of Lionel's wounds. The deep gashes Freddy's claws had left were already scabbed over from the holy water, but they still looked nasty. Under her chanting, every cut sealed shut until his skin was smooth again.
Luke watched quietly from the side, eyes narrowing with new respect.
This old lady was no joke.
And this mama's boy? He didn't have a mama anymore.
Lionel looked down at his perfectly healed hands, then up at Luke. The fear and hesitation were gone, replaced by steady determination.
He pulled Paki close and spoke with quiet certainty.
"I finally dropped that weight. From now on, I live for you, baby."
Then he turned to Luke, voice firm.
"Mr. Luke, thank you for setting my mother free. If you ever need anything, I'm there. No questions."
Luke clapped him on the shoulder with a crooked grin.
"Kid, forget later. You're helping right now."
Lionel blinked.
"What?"
Luke jerked a thumb at the ss around them.
"Dead bodies, wrecked truck, half a street torn up. You're the only one left who knows what really happened."
"You think this is a fairy tale? Kill the monster and the hero walks away clean? You're coming with ."
Lionel finally took in the full scene—the pools of black pus, the bullet-riddled fire truck, the distant wreckage of zombies and monsters.
His confident expression crumbled.
"Bro… am I gonna go to jail for this?"
Luke kept his face dead serious.
"Hard to say. Your mom started everything. You're the only witness left. Could be looking at life."
Lionel went white. His knees started shaking.
"Then… then what do I do?"
Luke finally broke and laughed.
"Relax. I know so people at the FBI. I'll pull strings. Besides, look at that face. Nobody's gonna believe you were the mastermind."
Before Lionel could answer, Luke's smile dropped. He turned to the old woman, who had been quietly watching.
"Alright. No more distractions. Ti to deal with Jason's bones."
The old lady nodded.
"Paki still has her car. We can take that."
Luke agreed. The young firefighter was sent back to the station. Lionel and Paki insisted on coming along.
They drove through winding back roads until the bone necklace the old woman had given Luke grew warm. It led them to a hidden cave mouth, half-covered in vines and brush.
Clearly man-made. Jason's mother had gone to a lot of trouble to hide it.
Luke stepped inside and found a crude stone altar built from lake rocks. A faded child's toy sat on top. Twisted symbols were painted on the walls in so kind of pignt. Photos of young Jason and his mother rested nearby.
The old woman let out a heavy sigh.
"This ritual was ant to let her see her son one last ti. But their hatred was too strong. She killed innocent people. It twisted everything."
Luke nodded. At least now he understood where Jason ca from.
He hefted the sack of bones.
"Ti to break this thing for good. I don't want to kill that bastard a third ti."
He started smashing the altar apart.
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