civilwarnovels Chapter 4240 Possession by Evil Spirits (2)
Chapter 4240 Possession by Evil Spirits (2)
Chapter 4240 Possession by an Evil Spirit (Part 20)
"Peter? Why are you back alone? Where's Kate?" the agent asked, opening the door to the room with some confusion.
“She wanted to wander around town, so I came to find you,” Peter said, standing outside the door. “How is your brother?”
"It's not good; he's been running a fever."
"Can I go in and see him?"
“He’s not a loud person,” the agent said. “Are you just going to leave Kate alone like this? She’s pregnant and just went through a car accident. You should take good care of her.”
“She’s not pregnant,” Peter said, shaking his head. “That was just an excuse for us to come back to town. Her aunt wouldn’t have let us in if we hadn’t told her she was pregnant.”
Although the detective already knew about this, he still seemed surprised. He said, "There are many excuses to get her back, why use this one? Her aunt isn't young anymore. This might disappoint her, isn't it?"
“It’s not entirely about that,” Peter sighed. “Kate has been grieving the loss of her daughter, so that might make her feel a little better.”
“Of course not. It’s just that I’m bringing up her painful memories again and again.” The detective sighed. “Let’s not talk about that. What did you come to see me about?”
"Nothing particularly special. I just heard that you are British and have traveled the world and are very knowledgeable, so I wanted to have a chat with you."
The agent came out of the room, closed the door, and said, "Let's talk in the living room."
They went into the living room and sat down. After Peter sat down, he said, "Aunt Kane doesn't like me. I don't want to bother her too much. How about we go out for a walk?"
“Alright.” The agent stood up again and said, “Actually, I’m quite curious about you too. Aunt Kane said you used to study at the Chicago Police Academy. That’s a pretty good school. I just don’t understand why you would want to be a policeman in such a remote little place.”
“I came back with Kate.” Peter said as the two walked out the door. “She has a strong attachment to this town, as if she feels that her daughter is here. So I just went along with it and was assigned here.”
“You’re a good man,” the agent said, “willing to sacrifice your future for your wife’s worries.”
Peter didn't continue the topic, but instead said, "Have you been to the waterfall? I heard it's a famous tourist attraction."
“Linda and I went there,” the agent said. “It was really nothing special. The waterfall wasn’t very big, and there was just a small lake at the bottom. Honestly, I don’t understand how this town could be designated a tourist attraction. It’s so different from the places I’ve been to before. Don’t you think so?”
"I haven't been to many tourist attractions."
“No way,” the agent said, looking at him. “New York has quite a few scenic spots. You’ve been to Long Island, haven’t you? I’ve heard New Yorkers love to vacation there. I’m planning to go check it out after I leave here.”
“I’ve never been there,” Peter said. “It’s a place for rich people. My parents aren’t rich. My uncle is a skilled worker who earns a good amount, but he doesn’t like wasting money, so he probably hasn’t been either.”
“I see. I’ve visited quite a few tourist attractions in Britain. My favorite place is the Scottish Highlands, where the weather is always sunny…”
They chatted as they walked to the center of town. It was quiet and still. The detective looked around and then said, "What a pity."
"What's a pity?"
"The houses in this town are quite nicely built, which shows that the townspeople must really like their hometown. It's a pity that for some reason, they've all moved away."
“No one dislikes their hometown. Maybe they don’t want to move, but they have no choice,” Peter shook his head and said. “Have you been to church?”
"No, not at all. Shall we go take a look together?"
“Okay,” Peter said. “I’ve been there once before. I’ll take you.”
The two walked towards the church and soon arrived at the entrance. The detective glanced up at the cross, and Peter asked him, "Are you religious?"
The detective shook his head. Although he was familiar with various religions and could easily chat with believers, he was not religious himself.
“It’s good,” Peter said. “My aunt is a Christian. She’s a good person and raised me after my parents died.”
“They must love you very much,” the agent said.
"And you? Do you and your brother still have any family?"
"I guess so," the agent said as he walked into the church. "We don't see each other often. We met once recently, and it was the same as always."
"What do you think of this town?" Peter asked, spreading his hands as they sat down in the first row of seats in front of the pulpit.
"It's not bad. You can tell it used to be a nice little town. It's declined now, but it's still very quiet. There shouldn't be any troubles living here."
“I think so too. Although I was a little unhappy with Kate’s suggestion before, after arriving here, I felt that finding a secluded place to live wouldn’t be bad. But unfortunately, I have to go back to the city because of my duties.”
“Indeed, you are a policeman. This town doesn’t even have a police station, so there’s no point in staying.”
“Seriously, do you really think there’s anything supernatural about this place?” Peter asked, frowning. “Kate keeps saying that this town swallowed her daughter, and she says she’s even dreamed about it.”
"This is hallucination caused by postpartum depression. You shouldn't be asking me; you should ask her directly and find her a professional psychologist. After all, she's your wife."
"Of course I wanted to, but she refused to receive treatment. Her words made me a little uneasy."
“You are a bit... well, otherwise you wouldn’t have flipped the car.” The agent shook his head and said, “Luckily, Kate isn’t actually pregnant, otherwise it would have been a big problem.”
"I saw that warehouse in the center of town was on fire. Did you do it?"
"Probably," the agent said, taking a deep breath. "It could also be that the weather was too dry and it spontaneously combusted. But it's just an abandoned warehouse anyway, so it probably doesn't matter if it burns down."
“There’s no fire station in this town, and it would be a real problem if a fire broke out,” Peter said. “Luckily, there wasn’t one.”
Then the two fell silent, seemingly having run out of things to say. After a few minutes, the agent finally showed a hint of impatience. He sighed, stood up, and said, "Is there anything else you want to say?"
Peter seemed confused as to why he had suddenly changed his attitude. He said, "I told you, I came to see you just to have a casual chat."
"Is this crappy dialogue ever going to end? Can't we just start fighting already?" the agent said, then pulled out his gun from his waist, pointed it at Peter, and said, "You have three seconds to say everything you have to say. Hurry up!"
Peter was horrified. He quickly raised his hands and exclaimed, "What's wrong?!"
boom!
A bullet struck Peter in the chest. The impact jolted Peter back a step, staring in disbelief at his bleeding wound. The agent remained calm, saying, "Looks like you have nothing to say."
"Ah ah ah ah ah!!!!"
Peter let out a scream, his face suddenly contorting in a grotesque expression. He shouted, "Are you insane?! Why are you attacking me?!"
“I have never told anyone that my brother was injured, but you immediately asked about his condition, which is very unusual.”
"I didn't say he was injured, I just asked how he was! Isn't that basic courtesy?!"
The detective looked at him like he was an idiot: "I know my marksmanship. You've been shot and you're still standing here unharmed, questioning me with such a strong voice. Don't you think there's something wrong with that?"
Peter immediately realized it was a trap. The agent's questions about his brother were just a stalling tactic to buy time and observe his reaction.
“You’ve been fooled,” the agent said. “You gave yourself away so easily. You’re not a very successful swindler.”
He was indeed testing him. This was based on two principles. First, ghosts are not afraid of bullets. After all, these things have no physical form, and even if they control someone else's body, they shouldn't be harmed by any injury to that body. Otherwise, that ghost would be too weak and not worth worrying about.
His immunity to bullets means there can be no real effect of injury. In other words, he can only act after being shot, not genuinely show pain.
Secondly, this person probably never experienced being shot in their lifetime. There's a peculiar phenomenon in the US: small towns tend to be safer, and even more remote towns have lower crime rates. This is because these are close-knit communities where everyone is related or even connected. Even if there's a minor argument, it's usually resolved with a few insults or punches, without the gunfights and carnage of big cities.
Moreover, gun control in small towns is often stricter than in big cities. The police and militia control all sources of firearms because making it easier for others to obtain guns would threaten their lives. In such closed-off areas, it is relatively easy to cut off the supply of something.
In conclusion, Americans in small towns are indeed much less likely to be shot than city dwellers, especially native-born Americans, who are almost never killed by gunshot wounds.
In other words, this ghost has no idea what it feels like to be shot.
Of course, when a person is injured, there are only a few sensations, like screaming and falling backward. But the detective just opened fire without any reason, leaving everyone baffled. This, of course, would enrage the evil spirit.
From the evil spirit's perspective, this person was just talking and then suddenly pulled out a gun—wasn't that just plain crazy? Of course, it would also want to know what this guy really meant and where it had slipped up.
When he asked, the detective brought up the hunting incident. Actually, the evil spirit hadn't been exposed; he had simply asked, "How is your brother?" In the English context, this wouldn't be considered a polite way to ask about someone's health; it's more like a casual greeting like, "How have you been lately?"
The detective was just making things up, deliberately twisting the meaning of his words. Sure enough, the evil spirit was angered upon hearing it. When you want to condemn someone, you can always find a pretext. Can a ghost really be falsely accused?
So he forgot he was supposed to act out the gunshot wound and started explaining. Each sentence takes several seconds, and standing there blankly for those few seconds—even a fool could tell something was wrong.
But ultimately, the evil spirit returned to one question: since he hadn't given himself away from beginning to end, why did this madman even fire the gun?!