Chapter 139: Her Name Is Bathsheba Sherman!!!

The golden hour had passed.

Now, dusk settled over the island, casting long shadows across the dirt path that led between the farmhouse where Jojo was staying and the haunted farmhouse of the Perron family.

A quiet hush had fallen over both houses—

as if even the wind was holding its breath.

From the side of the farmhouse, the door creaked open gently.

Lorraine stepped out, dressed modestly in her familiar long coat, her expression now composed, the trembling gone from her hands.

Her eyes—

still tinged with sorrow—

now burned with renewed resolve.

The storm inside her had settled, but in its place was the unwavering determination of a woman ready to face the darkness once more.

Outside, Jojo, Freya, and Leah stood waiting.

Jojo leaned slightly against the porch railing, arms folded, his gaze meeting Lorraine's as she stepped out.

He gave her a slow, knowing nod.

"____"

Nod~ 

Freya offered a small, encouraging smile.

Leah gave a quick thumbs-up, then looked over her shoulder where the Perron family stood together in silence—

Roger with an arm protectively around Carolyn, the girls clustered close, some holding each other's hands.

They hadn't seen Edward's spirit.

They didn't know what had just transpired.

But they saw something had changed in Lorraine.

Something had shifted.

Taking a deep breath, Lorraine walked up to Jojo and the others.

Her voice was soft but resolute:

"I'm ready now."

She turned her head toward the Perrons, giving them a gentle smile.

"Let's go home."

Carolyn's hand instinctively clutched Roger's tighter.

The girls stood still, watching as Lorraine took the first step forward.

Jojo followed beside her without a word, with Freya and Leah falling into stride.

As the group began walking back toward the house—

toward the shadows, toward the thing waiting inside—

there was no music, no sudden wind, no flickering lights.

Only silence.

As they reached the dirt path that split between the farmhouse and the Perrons' house, Lorraine calmly broke away from the group and walked to her modest dark blue sedan parked at the edge of the trees.

She opened the back door of her car and reached in.

Her hand brushed over worn leather cases and carefully organized gear she hadn't touched in nearly a year.

One by one, she pulled out the familiar tools of her trade:

An audio recorder, old yet reliable, is used to capture unexplained voices.

A handheld camera, adjusted for low light, perfect for catching what the eyes might miss.

A few spirit detection tools—

an EMF reader, a homemade pendulum tracker, and her personal rosary wrapped around a silver pocket crucifix.

And finally, a black wooden box, which held her tools for direct spirit communication—

pendulums, candles, and UV lights.

Freya watched curiously as Lorraine carried the equipment back toward them.

Leah muttered to Jojo under her breath,

"She came prepared."

Jojo gave a quiet nod, watching Lorraine carefully.

He could feel the shift in her—

she had pushed through her grief and now stood once again as the woman who had stared down a vicious demon and survived.

Lorraine handed Roger the crucifix.

"Keep this with you. No matter what you see or hear, hold on to it. It's more for you than them."

Roger nodded, gripping it tightly.

Then, Lorraine turned to Jojo and said quietly:

"Before we go in, I'd like ten minutes inside the house—alone. Just me and the house. I need to feel what's lingering."

Jojo gave a faint smile.

"You'll have it."

The Perrons hesitated, but with Jojo's assurance, they slowly backed off, staying near the edge of the property.

The sun had fully set now, and the farmhouse loomed like a silent predator.

Lorraine walked up the creaking porch steps alone, her fingers grazing the bannister, her breath slow, even.

Behind her, Jojo watched intently—

ready to step in if anything happened.

As Lorraine entered the dark, hollow house.

The others waited outside.

The floor creaked gently under Lorraine's steps as she entered the Perron household alone.

The dim light from her flashlight cast long shadows across the walls.

The house, once filled with laughter and life, now stood silent—

too silent.

She could almost hear the memories clinging to the corners.

She moved slowly through each room, brushing her fingers along the walls, and closing her eyes in places where the energy might gather.

But… nothing.

No cold spots, no flickering presence, no whisper in her mind.

'This house is too quiet,'

she thought.

'Too clean for a place supposedly crawling with spirits.'

She checked the living room, the girls' bedrooms, and even the bathroom.

There were no spiritual remnants—

no trails of anguish or fear.

Not even the usual signs of a haunting.

It was like something had swept the entire place clean.

While walking she noticed the clock seemed to be stopped at 3 AM and moved past it.

Puzzled, she walked toward the far end of the house, where Roger had mentioned a basement.

He said that ever since they discovered and opened it, strange occurrences had started.

The basement door stood partially ajar as if inviting her.

Descending the stairs, the air grew denser, colder—not from spirits, but from dust and years of disuse.

The small space was cluttered with old furniture, boxes, and long-forgotten relics of previous owners.

A piano, half-covered with a white sheet, sat in the far corner. Something about it drew her in.

Lorraine approached carefully, eyes narrowing as her flashlight caught a smudge on the otherwise dusty keys—

a single fingerprint.

She stopped just before pressing a key, the faint image staring back at her.

'Someone touched this recently…'

But still—

no spiritual reaction.

No resistance.

No presence.

With a sigh, she stepped back and made her way upstairs again.

Sigh~ 

"____"

The others stood just outside, watching the door like sentinels.

Lorraine opened it and stepped out, shaking her head.

Her expression was one of concern, not fear.

"I… I didn't find anything. Not a trace of spiritual activity. It's almost like… someone wiped the house clean."

Jojo tilted his head, thoughtful.

"That's not normal,"

he muttered under his breath.

"Not for a house with this history."

Freya narrowed her eyes.

"Could it have left?"

Lorraine looked back at the house one more time.

"Or… something doesn't want to be found."

The fingerprint on the piano echoed in her mind—

too small a clue, yet just enough to say this was far from over.

Lorraine, still puzzled by the eerie absence of any spiritual trace in the house, glanced sideways at Jojo.

Her curiosity finally got the better of her.

"So... what would you do in this situation?"

she asked, arms crossed, brow raised.

"You said you're part of some large supernatural team. I assume you've faced cases like this before."

Jojo gave her a lopsided grin, the kind that carried more weight than he let on.

His voice was calm, but the spark in his eyes told a different story—

one forged in many battles.

"Me?"

he said with a casual shrug.

"Well… I'd usually confront the evil spirits directly. Face-to-face. And then... send them straight to hell."

Lorraine blinked, taken aback for a moment by the bluntness.

"____"

But Jojo's expression wasn't one of arrogance—

it was certainty, experience.

There was a calm fearlessness in him that she rarely saw, even among seasoned exorcists.

Freya chuckled behind him.

Chuckle~ 

"Yeah. He doesn't really do subtle. 'Confront and cleanse' is his motto."

Leah added with a grin,

"Sometimes he doesn't even wait for the haunting to escalate. Just walks in, senses the evil, and kicks its ass."

Lorraine stared at them, momentarily speechless.

"____"

It was so far from her methodical, cautious approach.

But there was something reassuring in it too.

Perhaps it was because Jojo had the kind of strength and confidence Edward used to show.

Or maybe it was the knowledge that someone like him was standing between her and whatever hid in the shadows.

She looked at him thoughtfully.

"That's... bold. Reckless, even."

Jojo tilted his head and offered a sly smirk.

Smirk~ 

"Sometimes, it takes a little recklessness to deal with monsters who don't play by the rules."

Lorraine let out a breath and nodded slowly.

"Then I guess I'm glad you're on our side."

With a quiet sigh, Lorraine stepped back into the Perron house.

Sigh~ 

The wooden floors creaked beneath her feet, and the air hung heavy with a stillness that felt unnatural.

She adjusted the strap of her equipment bag and glanced over her shoulder toward Jojo, who stood just outside with his arms crossed, watching everything calmly.

Inside, Lorraine moved to the living room and began unpacking her tools.

She placed a small digital recorder on the table, its red light blinking as it began to record.

A camera on a tripod was set up to capture the room from a corner, angled to take in everyone's reactions. She motioned for the family to gather.

Carolyn, Roger, and the girls took their seats, eyes filled with a mix of worry and hope.

Lorraine gave them a gentle nod before flipping through her notepad.

Nod~ 

"Alright,"

she began softly, voice carrying the weight of experience,

"We're going to start by talking—just simple questions. I want to understand what each of you has seen, heard… felt. Nothing is too small. It all matters."

She looked toward them and started with Roger and then followed by Carolyn.

And soon followed by sisters one by one.

Then came the April turn.

"April, right?"

Lorraine smiled kindly.

"Can we start with you?"

April nodded slowly, hugging a soft doll to her chest.

"Can you tell me about your new friend?"

April blinked, then looked toward the stairs as if expecting someone to appear.

"Her name is Rory,"

she said quietly.

"He's nice. We play together. He hides when other people come, but he talks to me."

Lorraine's fingers tightened slightly around her pen.

"How do you talk to him?"

April looked to the side and then got up.

"I'll show you."

She led Lorraine and the others to her room, where she picked up the circus-shaped music box with a mirrored lid.

Its red paint was chipped, and its golden detailing dulled with age.

April gently turned the key, and the haunting melody began to play.

Lorraine knelt in front of the music box as it spun.

"What do you see?"

she asked.

April pointed to the mirror.

"If you look real close in the mirror… sometimes you can see Rory standing behind you."

The melody continued to echo eerily through the room.

Lorraine stared into the swirling mirror, searching for any flicker of movement.

Her breath caught for a split second—

but there was nothing.

Still, the chill that ran down her spine told her there was something watching.

Behind her, Jojo stood quietly, eyes narrowed slightly as he watched the music box turn.

He didn't need to see into the mirror—he could feel it.

And he knew.

Bathsheba Sherman was hiding.

She was waiting for the right opportunity.

Lorraine turned the key gently, and the circus-shaped music box began to play its soft, haunting melody once more.

She fixed her eyes on the small, swirling mirror, focusing her senses.

At first, she saw only herself—and then, something else.

Her breath hitched.

"____"

Behind her reflection, standing just outside the window of one of the rooms, was a young boy.

His expression was sombre, eyes hollow, face pale, and hands pressed to the glass as though trying to communicate.

Lorraine turned immediately to look at the window in the actual room—

but there was no one there.

A chill swept through her as she clutched the music box tighter.

Her instincts flared—

but not with fear.

She narrowed her eyes.

"That spirit… it's not the one,"

she murmured.

Her gaze swept the room—

but Jojo, Freya, and Leah were no longer where she had last seen them.

"____"

Concerned, Lorraine stood and quietly walked toward the hallway, following an invisible pull.

At the far end, one of the doors stood ajar.

Within the dim light filtering through the curtains, Jojo stood calmly.

Opposite him was the boy she had seen through the music box—

Rory.

The ghostly child stood with his back hunched and shoulders trembling, clearly terrified.

Jojo's voice was low and steady, almost comforting.

"You're not the one hurting them… are you?"

Rory shook his head frantically, his translucent form flickering.

"She… she watches from below,"

the ghost whispered and started to tell.

"She hurts them when I try to warn them."

Jojo's let the boy's sprit go.

"Go. You're free now. You don't have to stay here anymore."

With a final glance of gratitude, Rory's spirit shimmered—

and then darted through the floor, vanishing like a fleeing shadow.

Just as he disappeared, Lorraine stepped into the room.

Her eyes met Jojo's.

"That was Rory,"

she said quietly.

Jojo nodded.

Nod~ 

"He wasn't the threat. That boy... Rory. He's terrified to even whisper her name.."

Lorraine furrowed her brow.

"Then who is it?"

Jojo glanced down toward the wooden floor beneath them.

"Her name is Bathsheba Sherman. The one haunting this place. But he was too afraid to speak her name. That kind of fear doesn't come from just a ghost—it comes from something darker."

The Perron family paled at the name, while Lorraine clenched her jaw, her instincts sharpening.

"That's not a name I've heard before. We'll have to check the library archives or the police station records to—"

Jojo raised a hand and smirked slightly, pulling out his phone.

"No need. I have someone better."

He tapped the screen and spoke casually,

"Sara, pull up everything you can find on a woman named Bathsheba Sherman in 1677 Round Top Road in Harrisville, Burrillville, Rhode Island."

"Historical records, local archives, police reports, anything you can access."

A soft chime responded, and a calm, feminine voice echoed through the speaker:

"Searching now, Jojo. Estimated time to compile results: fifteen minutes. Cross-referencing multiple sources, including encrypted state archives and local news blacklists…"

Lorraine blinked.

"What is that?"

Freya chuckled.

Chuckle~ 

"Meet Sara. The real MVP behind the scenes."

"She's been with us since our first case,"

Jojo added.

"Best informative assistant a demon hunter could ask for."

Moments later, Sara's voice returned:

"Records found. Would you like a full vocal summary, or shall I put it in your phone as PDF?"

Jojo smirked and glanced at Lorraine.

"Let's go with the summary, Sara. Everyone should hear this."

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(Author's POV)

(A/N): 

Thanks for reading the chapter!

Please give a review and power stone!!!