Chapter 127: The Book of Death

As time passed, each member of the family busied themselves with their own affairs.

Single mother Lisa was packing her bags, trying to move without being flustered.

Bell was in the bathroom, bathing Casey, the youngest child at four years old.

Bridget stood at her bedroom window, clutching the cross that brought her comfort, looking up at the suddenly thunderous sky that flashed with lightning.

Feeling the cool breeze that was cooler than ever blowing through the window, Bridget tightened her grip on the cross, sensing that it would rain tonight.

However, what she didn't know was that Danny had retrieved an antique book from beside the bed, a book she thought had been thrown away.

"How could such a good thing be thrown away!" Sitting on the bed, Danny placed the heavy antique book on his lap, his eyes shining with the light of discovering a treasure.

The touch of the antique book was very pleasant, as smooth as real silk, and its cover design also gave the book an ancient feel.

Touching the sealed pattern on it, Danny saw that it seemed to be made of finely ground, sharp ivory tusks, and he grabbed the edge.

Initially, the book was difficult to open, no matter what he tried, he couldn't undo the crossed tusks seal until today when he accidentally got pricked by the tusk and suddenly it opened.

Recalling the bizarre illustrations he had just seen, Danny couldn't help but open the book. He was curious about the meaning behind these seemingly absurd images.

As he opened the cover, what appeared were illustrations of torture. The text was unreadable, but the illustrations were clear.

One depicted a demonic figure with a fierce face, right hand wielding a blade, cutting towards the neck of a person held by the left hand.

Several people surrounded someone lying on the ground, feasting.

A disheveled woman with vacant eyes held a blood-dripping head, bringing it to her mouth.

Each illustration was vivid, chilling to the bone. Danny, overwhelmed, closed the book, took a deep breath to suppress the fear in his heart, and moved the heavy book aside to look at the three records beneath it with pursed lips.

The records came with the book, a secret only he knew.

His curiosity got the better of him, thinking that these records might explain the bizarre book, its contents, and its history.

Acting on his thoughts, Danny took the records to his turntable.

Unwrapping the cloth, the records revealed themselves, and seeing the date [November 13, 1923], Danny's eyes flickered with realization.

"This book is definitely a treasure."

Muttering to himself, Danny placed the first record on the turntable...

The sound from the speakers was initially just an introduction, but what followed made Danny understand what the bizarre book was all about.

"Good afternoon, my clerical brethren, I am Father Marcus Littleton, the librarian of St. Patrick's Cathedral, welcome to the City of Angels."

"We've invited you here to witness a unique artifact discovered by our missionaries abroad. This is its first public unveiling."

"The Book of Death."

The first record stopped abruptly, leaving Danny looking at the second record, still feeling an itching curiosity.

"Continue!"

Danny removed the first record and placed the second one on.

Just then, a loud thunderclap sounded outside.

Boom! Danny jumped, looking towards the window, where heavy rain pelted against it in the dark night.

"It's raining."

Unaware of what Danny was doing, Bridget stared at the window, where the rain made a pattering sound, touching her bruised face, and sighed.

Boom! At the same time, single mother Lisa paused while packing her bags, then continued stuffing them.

"Hey, don't be afraid, baby."

In the bathroom, Bell, pregnant and abandoned by her boyfriend, held Casey, who trembled at the sound of thunder, and spoke softly.

"I'm still here..."

Boom! Thunder roared incessantly, lightning snaked through the night sky, adding a terrifying element. Danny cursed under his breath.

"Shit!"

Yet, even so, Danny pressed the play button amid the thunder, and the speaker continued to emit sound.

"Based on the tests I've conducted so far, the Book of Death's binding is made from pickled human flesh, and its text and illustrations are drawn in human blood. It's undoubtedly a heretic object!"

"But the scroll contains sacred mysteries. I sought the church's permission to translate it."

"Unfortunately, I was refused and rejected by the bishops of the church, so I began to secretly translate the vast amount of text and symbols in the Book of Death."

"The book contains various ancient rituals and spells. From the translated texts, it is said that reciting these spells can allow humans to contact supernatural forces beyond our world. Now, I will translate the first segment of the resurrection spell through this recording..."

Suddenly, the speaker clicked, emitting an unintelligible, chilling sound.

"[Spell…]" The sound was eerie, unlike anything a human could produce. Danny felt chills all over his body.

He quickly sensed something was wrong and pressed the stop button, but the speaker continued to play non-stop.

Click-click-click! The sound of pages rapidly turning suddenly arose.

Danny turned stiffly, looking towards the bedside where the so-called Book of Death was flipping through its pages rapidly, finally stopping on an illustration of a wicked woman with a twisted smile, holding a blade, vivid as if about to come to life.

Danny's eyes widened...

Boom! Thunder roared!

Under the pouring rain, a private jet quietly landed at Kennedy International Airport in the dark night.

"Father York, a car has been arranged for you outside."

A worker in a black suit, looking up at the priest who was taller by half a head and stretching, spoke respectfully.

"The driver will take you wherever you wish to go."

"Hmm."

After a nearly eleven-hour flight from the morning, Father York nodded in response and looked to the side.

The slender Eileen was struggling to take down a backpack from overhead.

All four backpacks, filled with revolving grenade guns or bullet boxes, were indeed a bit much for Eileen's frame.

"Let me."

Hearing the voice, Eileen instinctively stopped and watched as the priest easily took down all the backpacks with just one hand.

With one hand for two backpacks, Father York easily carried all four and walked towards the waiting worker.

"Let's go, Eileen."

Eileen snapped back to reality and hurriedly followed the broad-backed priest.

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