Ash awoke leaning against Daredevil. He felt sore and tingly all over. The aftereffects of being electrocuted are still hanging inside him. As he slowly got up, he realized he was in a cemetery, the cemetery where his parents and Isaac and Amelia's graves were located. He deduced that the Darkmold must have taken him there after it took over, going to a place more familiar to it and himself.
Ash heard his spine and partial neck bone pop as he got himself standing, he stared at the headstones quietly, paying his respects to his family. He wiped the dust off the top of his parents' stone, then Isaac's and Amelia's.
Ash saw some flowers growing near a tree that hadn't been picked yet. He grabbed a couple to place on the stones. Amelia's was nice and clean compared to Isaac's, which was trashed due to the reputation he got from when he was labeled the 'Corpse Collector' the day his reputation was ruined. Ash kissed Amelia's headstone first before touching Isaac's, leaning his forehead on the stone.
"Schlaf gut, Bruderherz," Ash says, "Rest well, Brother Heart," to his elder brother. Besides Lita, Ash never told anyone else that his family from his father's side was of German descent. His father, before dying, told him and Isaac that their ancestor came to America during the colonial wars, but little is known or discussed beyond the fact that they were in the service at that time.
Ash leaned against the tree next to the headstones to help stretch his body after sleeping against the bike. He could feel a ghost pain in his fake head, like a headache. Even the pumpkin must be hurting from the shock. The Darkmold did tell him he was slowly regaining his sense of feeling again with the Darkmold after that battle with the Berserker.
After Ash collected himself, he held his stomach, and the pain in it crept up on him suddenly and sharply. Ash knew he was hungry; he hadn't devoured a soul since Casper, just the skulls.
"Great, bad night, my fake head hurts, and now I'm starving for a soul. Can it get any worse for me?"
Ash would regret saying that. Just like a perfectly timed response in comedies, the system popped up a message for him.
{Alert. The host's hunger has grown. As Darkmold's stability weakens, the host must feed on multiple souls to increase Darkmold's strength, or risk the system breaking and the host's immediate death.}
Ash clenched the tree, hearing the announcement. His nails were breaking the bark from the intensity of his grip.
"FUCK!!!!!" He shouted. "I had to say it, no, I don't want to kill another human. I'd sooner commit suicide than do that again. Can I use the system I used before to trade again? I'll give up another ability to hold off the hunger."
{Negative.}
The system responded.
"Why not?" Ash asked in turn.
{Due to the severity of the locked one inside the Darkmold, regaining control, the system can not accept another ability. The host must collect at least ten souls to repair damage and strengthen Darkmold's influence. Any continued neglect will have apocalyptic consequences.}
Ash couldn't believe what he heard. He let himself get caught off guard the other day, and now he was paying a heavy price for it. Ten souls, it felt like a death sentence to him.
"Damnitt, what am I going to do. I don't want to kill a human again. Killing Casper was a mistake. How am I going to live with myself if I take another life? I just can't do it, I'm not a murderer." Ash's head weighed heavily with concern. There was nothing he could do to avoid the situation now; he had to act quickly or find a way to get his fix without losing sleep.
Getting on Daredevil, Ash looked at his phone. He saw a text from Lita saying she was going to stay at the apartment again. For now, she was going to gather her things at her house while her dad was gone to avoid any more trouble. He smiled when he heard she was staying at his place again, for now, he had some good news.
His mind still lost in thought and concern, he drove to the last place he thought of going: a church.
With it being Sunday and his mind convoluted with doubts, he just needed to be somewhere quiet where he could think straight.
He was already close to the church near the graveyard; it was no more than a five-minute drive for him.
This one he never went to again after the funerals. It felt weird in a spiritual way, that and it was visited by high ranking members of the Revhound Corps so it had a reputation. Regardless he wanted some peace and quiet and he was too tired to drive to another location that was either a scam house or trying to collect large amounts of colllection money for personal use.
Daredevil parked himself outside the church, away from view, letting himself get some quick rest. Ash walked up the steps, bracing himself in case the consecrated grounds would burn him for what he was now. Nothing happened; if anything, something that felt like warmth hit him in his body when he walked through the doors. The doors opened slowly due to his nervousness. He looked around to see if any service was taking place; thankfully, no one was there, giving him some time to himself, as he wanted. He walked down the aisle, the large Jesus hanging over the stage. Ash felt a ghost tear roll down his face; he wiped his cheek reflexively, even though there was nothing there to wipe. Taking a seat in the front row, he grabbed a Bible, flipping through the pages, just going through the motions, looking for anything that could help him clear his thoughts. He stopped at Mark 11:25, reading the verse on it.
"And whenever you stand praying, forgive, if you have anything against anyone, so that your Father also who is in heaven may forgive you your trespasses."
Ash scoffed at reading it. Not exactly what he was looking for, but at least something to read.
"Not what you're looking for, my son?"
Ash turned to see the Priest behind him, holding a dust broom as he was cleaning the church earlier.
"Sorry, Father, I just needed somewhere to think. I'll leave now." The Priest smiled faintly. He waved to Ash to sit down, put the broom aside, and sat next to Ash, cleaning his glasses as he patiently waited to hear everything Ash needed to say.
"No rush, my son. Tell me what ails you so much that you just wanted to be here to think?"
Ash let out a long sigh; he didn't even know where to start.
"Have you ever, ever had thoughts, Father? " Thoughts you were so terrified of that it wasn't your soul you were afraid to lose, but the love and trust others have in you. Is there no going back from anything after you do something so horrible you wish you could vanish after it happens?"
The Priest looked concerned. He only heard confessions like these from soldiers or men who were released from prison after committing murder.
"Sounds like there's a burden you feel greatly for. What is it you fear, my son?"
"I don't know, Father. For once, I truly don't know anymore."
Ash held his hands tight, the gripping sound of his skin rubbing up against the other squeaking out.
"I've done something, bad father. At first, it felt right because it was against someone awful. A person who would kill a wounded animal without remorse or bully someone with utter joy about it, but after I got even, I didn't feel good at all. It felt sickening inside. Who was I to do that to him, even though he made me a victim for years? Now I feel like I have to do something even worse to stop something evil from happening. I don't know what to do, Father. I'm scared, I'm so damn scared. I wish….I wish my brother were here."
Ash, in his heart, wished he could cry; it felt like the moment he needed to let it out badly, but couldn't.
The Priest placed a hand on Ash's shoulder. He tried to comfort him in the best way he could.
"There are some things in life, my son, we can not accept or can not run from. If there's an action you cannot accept but still choose to do because you must and are justified, then you can accept the consequences without burdening yourself. But if you run away from it because you're too afraid to accept the consequences, then you will always be wrong in the end."
The Priest opened the Bible that Ash had been going through earlier. He stopped at Hebrews, pointing at the verse for Ash to read.
"For the moment, all discipline seems painful rather than pleasant, but later it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it. Hebrews 12:11 sounds as if it might be up your alley."
"Not sure I understand its meaning, Father."
The Priest explained to Ash, "Hardships, challenges, and discipline are naturally difficult and painful in the moment. It means character growth, building yourself up, even when faced with terrible obstacles that would break a man easily. Stay strong, my son, if you really believe you'll grow strong from this, then do not turn away, even if you feel terrible later, lean on faith and your family for support."
The Priest stood up to leave after believing he had given enough for Ash to stand up with, hoping this would help him walk on his own now.
Ash considered taking the words to heart, but he wasn't very religious. He didn't really believe in any of it after Isaac and Amelia died, but thought he would try again. Before leaving, it was still burned in his heart, the aching warning the system gave him.
"S'cuse me, father. I hate to bug you after you've helped so much. But have you heard of any malevolent beings involving pumpkins or wearing old colonial-style outfits? Something that wants to chop off heads or rides on top of a pale horse wanting souls, something more dangerous than the Kraegans."
The Priest stopped walking. He almost could tip over from shock hearing that. Calmly as he could, he looked back at Ash, trying to answer his question.
"Where would you hear that from, my son. Are you into studying legends from the Hudson Valley?"
Ash tilted his head in confusion. "I'm sorry?" He asked.
The Priest tried to answer without breaking his posture. "I ask why you're asking about that. It is an ungodly being to speak of. Why are you asking about it?"
Ash felt something was off. The Priest seemed frightened to answer.
"I'm sorry if I disturbed you. But I've had nightmares about this. I can't stop this feeling like I need to know what it is. Please, Father, I need to know what's haunting my dreams." Ash wouldn't divulge the secret of the system easily, instead he made it sound like he was having dreams or premonitions.
The Priest wanted to refuse the answer to Ash's questions, but he felt he needed to answer.
"Well, if you are asking about pumpkins and cutting of heads, that sounds like the legends of Sleepy Hollow and the Headless Horseman."
Ash felt his bones quiver at the sound of it. Images in his mind flashed again, as they had in the morning when he first awoke after he got the system.
"The Headless Horseman? You mean that silly bedtime story we were told about of a ghost hunting people in Sleepy Hollow? Father, I may be young, but I'm not foolish. That's just some scary story the residents of the Hollow made about some Boogeyman from their territory to scare kids at night. It's not real."
The Priest gripped the broom tight. He was keeping his composure as strongly as he could.
"It's no story, my son." He took a breather, taking a swig of wine from his flask, hiding it from Ash's sight.
"What I say you must not repeat to anyone. I only tell you this because I feel you may need to hear this." Taking another sip, he continued his talk to Ash. "During the American Revolutionary War, the British hired Hessian mercenaries to help fight the American army. There was one among the Hessians, one who was infamous, cutting off heads on top of a pale horse, charging into battle. Even before the Kraegans, this Hessian was feared like he was a demon incarnate."
Ash felt a pain in his gut, not from his hunger but from fear.
"Reports say a lone soldier killed this Hessian by destroying his head with a cannon, ending his reign. But that was not the end, soon members of the Hollow swore they had seen a headless soldier on a horse killing civilians, hunting down remnants of the unit that killed him. Riding with a pumpkin ablaze to replace his lost head. That my son is the legend, the legend of the Headless Horseman."
Ash could feel the faintest bit of sweat roll down his back. It was impossible to believe that any story used for Halloween tales or by Disney was actually real.
"How do you know this father? Shouldn't this be secret or something?"
"My son, it's not like it's a complete secret, not since Washington Irving made the legend popular, but it was a dark time in history. A time when a monster was born during a time of war and blood. But this monster was real, either way, if the Kraegans are real as we know now. Then the Horseman must be as well."
Ash wanted to leave. This was too much even for him to stomach. Ash stood up to leave, and the Priest grabbed his arm before he could reach the door.
"My son, don't look into it more. There are some doors you must not open. Don't open this one."
Ash shrugged off the Priest's grip on him, taking his leave of the church.
The Priest took a longer sip of his flask. He tried to pull out his phone to contact his peers, but his phone felt hot to the point it burned his fingertips. He dropped it in a panic. When he tried to find the source of the heat, he saw the little girl that watched over Ash eating an apple on the altar in front of him.
"You? Who are you?"
The girl took another bite before hopping off the altar, staring down the Priest with blank eyes. The Priest pulled out a saber from his robes he had hidden, ready to defend himself. The little girl stared hard, and the Priest began to choke before falling to the ground,dropping the saber, bleeding from his eyes, ears, and mouth.
"God will damn you." He tried to say with his choked voice filled with the liquid in his throat.
The little girl took another bite before throwing the apple at the crucifix above the door, knocking it off the nail holding it.
"God? Where? I don't see him here. Oh, that's right." The girl pointed at the Priest's chest, ripping out a medallion through his clothes. Clutching it in her hands, filled with intense hate. "God isn't on the side of hypocritical murderers."
The medallion glowed red; soon, it melted in her hand. She lifted the Priest with her power into the air, forcing his arms to stretch out in the same pose as the crucified Jesus Christ.
"I should thank you for telling him about the Horseman, it was the horse and souls that got you wasn't it. That was a detail Irving never wrote about. You slipped up telling him that. The system will reward him with more power now that he knows more about the Hessian. It's not easy to get that thing to give him power unless it wants to, it barely listens to me. So thank you gramps, but, I won't let you Freemason agents stop this from happening."
The little girl threw the Priest against the wall, she shattered the blade of the saber using the shards to stab the Priest in the hands and feet just like Christ was.
"You can't let this happen. You know who the Hessian was the avatar for. He will bring about the other three and summon the apocalypse to our world."
The little girl scoffed; she didn't give a damn about the warning. Her plans had nothing to do with the apocalypse; they were more personal. The Priest started to pray as weakly as he was. The little girl mocked him by mouthing his prayer back at him. She tightened her grip on his throat with her power.
"The world, bah, I have no ill will to the world. I only wish to eliminate all of the Kraegans, your people, and your bastard comrade. Now do what you primitive monkeys did to innocent women in Salem. BURN!!!" Her voice echoed at her last command.
The Priest ignited; he screamed in agony as he was immolated in front of the little girl. She smiled, only a way a devil could, joy at seeing the Priest suffer. Rather, a servant of her enemy, getting what she felt he deserved.