A supernatural horror movie had been turned into a gunfight movie; this was something no one could have predicted.
"Get in! Get in!" Bella endured the pain in her arm, forcibly dragging the heavily injured policewoman and Sharon over three hundred meters. She stuffed them both into the back seat of the pickup, threw the Tome into Sharon's lap, and finally breathed a sigh of relief.
"Shaw! Let's get out of here! Go! Go!" She urged anxiously. There was no time to turn the pickup around; she just slammed it into reverse and gunned it out of there.
The cultists couldn't catch up to the pickup; they could only jump up and down, cursing.
"Take out that old hag!" Bella pointed at the old woman surrounded by the crowd of cultists. This woman was the root of all evil; without her, none of this crap would have happened.
Shaw gauged the distance. Having recovered most of her memories, handling weapons was second nature to her. She threw aside the M4A1 and picked up an Austrian SSG-69 sniper rifle from the side.
She was already a ghost, so things like breathing or muscle balance didn't exist for her—and recoil was no concern at all. Newton had no authority over ghosts. With a simple calculation of wind speed, a bullet rushed out of the barrel at 860m/s.
Bang!
The instant the bullet was fired, the old woman seemed to be dragged by something to the side. She managed to dodge the headshot, but her body couldn't move in time.
The bullet struck her shoulder, shattering the scapula directly. The entire arm, along with the shredded flesh of her shoulder, was blown away by the bullet. It took five seconds for the old woman to notice she was injured; her scream was incomparably shrill, like a banshee.
Seeing that she had actually missed the kill shot, Shaw was a bit surprised and wanted to fire another round.
"Forget it, let's go!" Bella stopped her from continuing the attack. The pickup quickly vanished into the white mist of the Inner World.
"Save me! You idiots!" "Stop the bleeding! Hurry, I still have important duties, I still have to lead the order..." "...Me? I have no sin, I am devout... devout..."
The old woman had lost too much blood, her consciousness fading. Flickering shadows appeared before her eyes, seemingly showing countless scenes, some real, some illusory.
"The Bishop isn't going to make it..." "...Then what should we do?" "Our sanctuary is gone too!"
As the old woman entered her death throes, the cultists panicked.
During the pursuit of Bella earlier, Shaw had killed over a dozen of their companions. Now, the remaining cultists only numbered a little over fifty, and nearly half of them were wounded.
Facing the endless stream of monsters in Silent Hill, these living people trapped for thirty years had thought of many ways to cope while scavenging for supplies. Firearms and flamethrowers were the result of scouring the entire town and pooling their collective know-how to build and modify weapons. However, limited by raw materials, ammo had never been plentiful, and now it was basically all used up.
Scavenging weapons and ammo from the dead might have bought them some time, but the remaining cultists all turned their heads in unison.
The church, their final sanctuary, was severely damaged. Forget the power of faith; now even the main gate was gone, and Bella had smashed a human-shaped hole through the side wall. What did they have left to defend against the coming threats?
"Hehehehe..." A bell-like laughter rang out abruptly.
A little girl in a purple dress with long black hair and a face full of malice walked out of thin air. Her eyes were filled with boundless hatred and pain. Her appearance somewhat resembled Sharon's, only one was evil, and the other was righteous.
The malevolent little girl looked up slightly, observing the tattered church with curiosity.
"What a pity. It seems your God has abandoned you."
As her voice fell, the Otherworld suddenly descended upon the dilapidated church.
The previously somewhat ornate murals were instantly defiled by sewage, the elegant pillars became covered in rust, and the church, already damaged by the gunfight, suddenly became hideous.
The pyre originally prepared to burn the policewoman was covered by thick, foul-smelling black fog. The wood disintegrated, and the ground caved in, causing a mass of soil to fall away. A hospital bed, which seemed to have been scorched for years, slowly rose from the hole.
A woman, her whole body severely burned and now wrapped in bandages, lay on the bed. Her eyes, devoid of any ripple of emotion, looked at the old woman.
The malevolent little girl spoke with open mockery on her face, "Heh, respected Bishop, God's representative on earth? Wake up, your old friend has come to see you."
The old woman, originally on the verge of death, seemed to enter a state of terminal lucidity. She stared dead at the hospital bed as if she wanted to eat the woman lying on it alive.
A length of rusted barbed wire snaked up out of the soil. Previously, this wire had saved the old woman's life; otherwise, Shaw would have killed her. Of course, the fact that the wire saved her before and wanted to kill her now was not a contradiction.
No matter how fierce the old woman's glare was, it was useless. The wire curled around her neck, hoisting her into mid-air.
Realizing something was wrong, the remaining cultists hurriedly tried to run back, but it was already too late.
Countless barbed wires suddenly shot out from the muddy ground. They were like venomous snakes, coiling or stabbing straight out. The cultists had no power to fight back against such a move. They hurriedly raised their guns to return fire, but the bullets passed right through the malevolent little girl and were blocked by the myriad of wires when shot at the woman on the bed.
The cultists' bodies were pierced by the wires that seemed to possess a life of their own. Some were even dragged off the ground, hanging like specimens, wailing frantically in mid-air.
Blood sprayed like fountains, quickly dyeing the graveyard in front of the church red. The dark brown earth seemed to absorb some kind of nutrient, its color deepening by the second.
"Respected Bishop, where is your God? Where is your performance of justice? On such a solemn occasion, you need to be more serious, don't you?" The evil little girl stood in place, looking up at the old woman.
"Alessa! You bastard! Bastard! I won't let you get away with this! I tell you! My Lord will..."
The old woman seemed prepared to say some tough words, but the snake-like wires winding around her bound her feet and her remaining arm. Then, pulling in unison, they tore the old woman into fragments, like being quartered by horses. Foul-smelling flesh and blood scattered all around, and Alessa on the hospital bed finally revealed a trace of pleasure.
The revenge had begun! More cultists were pierced by the wires, and sprays of bloody rain burst through the air.
From the appearance of the malevolent little girl and Alessa on the bed until the total annihilation of the cultist group, it hadn't even taken half a minute.
"How boring—over so quickly!" The evil little girl hopped and spun in place. She cheerfully opened her arms, lifting her small face; the scattered flesh and blood falling from the sky seemed as wonderful as sweet dew to her.
Alessa on the hospital bed had no ability to speak. After her great vengeance was exacted, she quietly disappeared.
The evil little girl stopped spinning. She looked in the direction the pickup truck had left for a moment, then shook her head in disappointment and vanished as well.