X. Backfire

In a somber Green Hope leadership meeting, Pastor John Carroll told his companions about the visions and what he’d come to believe. There was fear in his eyes, but his voice did not shake as he delivered his message: “It’s true. The curse is real.”

Pushing past the murmurs, he clarified. “The curse is real, but not in the way the stories have told it—this isn't about old churches, graveyards, or the work of wicked men from the past. Or at least, it's not because of that.”

They hung on his words with mixed feelings. Most were sinking in the thought that they were watching their leader cave to madness. But a few felt the truth in their hearts even before Pastor John put it bluntly: “Something ancient and evil is bleeding in from an unseen world. These aren't fallen angels. It’s something else. It is the force behind every horrible thing that has happened here for a century. And it has a consciousness… a desire.”  

By the end of the meeting, the team was much smaller. But those who remained were resolved and set to work studying history through new eyes. A mission had brought them to this place and this battle. As long as Green Hope owned the property, it would be a shield against the unknown horrors within.

They could have called it whatever they wanted. To the hungry force from another world, they were nothing but in the way. Scream all you want at the fire; it won't stop the burn. 

In the afternoon of May 14th, 2023, shoddy electrical wiring swung loose and lit a little spark. The wood-cluttered church in a metal box should have been all gone in minutes, but only a section burned. It was not so fortunate for the rehearsing choir members in that section—especially the ones who’d brought in their children that day.

That was the quick and final blow to Green Hope Church. After mandatory repair costs, rising property taxes, and limited tithes from a dwindling church body, Pastor John was out of options. They could no longer afford to keep it, and the cursed church was free to whisper to the next. 

An owner or not, John would continue holding the shield. He had noticed a pattern of protracted vacancy after the disasters in the past, during which the hungry voices seemed to go dormant. If the evil slept again, the remnants of Green Hope would use the time to keep searching for answers. 

If it slept. If it stayed empty. The thought stuck in John’s mind. The pattern had to hold, it must hold, until he knew what to do next. And surely it would, after all… 

Who in God’s name would want this place?