While Alex was talking to Dean on the radio, every possible monster in Toluca Prison began to wake up. The lights that he had literally turned on throughout the entire complex roused whatever preferred to remain in the darkness. Screams, growls, scraping metal, and heavy blows against bars—the entire cacophony echoed through corridors, floors, and even reached the guard booth where Alex and Heather were.

Heather tried to ignore this infernal chorus and focus on Alex’s conversation. She caught only fragments: psychopath, murdered agents, some ritual that needed to be stopped. The answer was right under her nose—while Alex was restoring the power, she had decided to examine the box of documents. Now in her hands lay the file on Walter Sullivan—the very one Dean had mentioned.

When Alex finished the call and clipped the radio back to his coat pocket, Heather carefully placed the folder back where it belonged. She wanted to ask how they were supposed to find her father in this endless maze.

“Who was that psychopath you were talking about with your colleague?” she asked when Alex turned to her.

“Just another brainwashed idiot,” Alex replied in a carefree tone, pulling out a cigarette. “Grew up in a children’s home run by the Order. Alessa’s mother brainwashed him with some ‘great purpose’—resurrecting a deity and all that crap. In the end he killed ten people, then himself—and became a ghost. Now he keeps on killing.”

“So your colleagues are trying to stop him? And as I understood—they’re doing it in another part of the city, but they ended up in this same prison, only higher up?” Heather asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Exactly, Cheryl. All the towns around Toluca Lake are connected—whether they like it or not. Alright, let’s go find your father. If he’s here—I’ll get him out. If not—there are only two options left,” Alex said, pointing the lit cigarette in her direction.

“Isn’t it just one? If Dad isn’t in prison—then they sent him to the hospital to ‘cleanse him of impurity.’ That cultist you interrogated said they send all the infected there,” Heather said, frowning slightly.

Alex looked at her calmly, but something dark flickered in his eyes.

“Listen, Cheryl. If your father isn’t in prison or the hospital—then Claudia is holding him in the church. They’re going to try to lure you there by any means necessary anyway. And they’ll use your father as a hostage. Because they need you to give birth to their god. I think you already know how that process works—even without me explaining. But don’t worry—in any case, I’ll get your father out.”

Heather nodded silently, understanding exactly what he meant. In those vague memories that surfaced in her mind, she had already seen how it happened. To give birth to a god, one had to go through pain and suffering—supposedly for “rebirth,” just like it had been with Alessa.

She lifted her gaze to Alex—and finally fully understood why, back in the alternate Midwich Elementary, he had told Alessa he would protect the bright part of her soul. Why he never let her face real pain and sorrow. Why he had supported her from the very beginning. He didn’t want her to become a vessel for some god the Order believed in.

“Hey, don’t look at me like that—I’m getting shy,” Alex said, chuckling lightly. “If you want to thank me—buy me coffee later.”

“Okay… And now you can go first, Mr. Agent Who Knows Everything,” Heather replied with a slight smile.

Alex grinned wider and pressed the button to open the doors in the guard booth. A buzzer sounded, followed by a heavy clang—and the metal gates slowly slid apart.

They stepped out of the booth and approached the open doors. Beyond them stretched a dimly lit prison block. Even though Alex had partially restored power, the light here remained faint, reddish, barely pushing back the shadows.

Walking a little farther, they heard distinct sounds from above—scraping, banging on metal, low growls. Raising their heads, Alex and Heather saw endless rows of prison floors stretching upward. All of them were covered by one continuous grate—to which monsters clung. When Heather aimed her flashlight upward, the beam caught silhouettes—and the creatures immediately scattered, hiding from the light.

Heather froze, stunned. Endless floors, cells, shadows… She had thought her father was somewhere here—but now she wasn’t so sure anymore.

“Now it feels like he’s not here…” she said quietly, staring upward.

“There are still solitary cells and isolation units for the especially violent. Maybe they took him there. Or maybe the Order doesn’t even set foot in this place. But we need to check first. Let’s go,” Alex said, patting her on the shoulder.

Heather nodded, trying not to lose hope. She was terrified even to think that her father might be held in the Order’s church—and what those deranged cultists might do to him there.

Alex drew Ivory from its holster and moved forward along the walkway between cells, completely ignoring the monsters above that were still clinging to the bars and growling in the dark.

Heather followed cautiously, occasionally glancing upward—to make sure the creatures didn’t suddenly drop down. Alex turned right—and led her to the other side of the block. Right now he was interested in the inner courtyard of Toluca Prison.

Continuing past empty cells—some containing corpses of inmates in orange jumpsuits—Heather suddenly tugged Alex’s sleeve and pointed at a strange door with an animal symbol carved into it that they were passing.

“We’ll check what’s behind that door later. For now let’s get our bearings,” Alex said, walking past.

“Where are we going now? Because everything here is so confusing—I can’t even imagine where to look for solitary cells or isolation units,” Heather said, catching up.

“Solitary cells are usually in separate blocks. Isolation units are in remote areas, like the basement, so inmates can fully feel the loneliness. But first—the courtyard. I think there’ll be an exit from this place there,” Alex said calmly.

Heather raised an eyebrow. She already knew: an exit from the alternate world didn’t necessarily have to be a door. Continuing to follow Alex, she kept looking back—every time she heard a strange rustle or whisper behind them. But the moment she turned her head—the sound vanished.

Soon they reached iron doors leading to the prison courtyard. Alex pushed them open—and they stepped into a yard plunged in thick darkness. Heather swept her flashlight in every direction—but the beam wasn’t strong enough to reveal anything.

Alex took off his backpack and pulled out a flare gun. Raising it overhead, he fired. A bright flare shot upward, illuminating the dark courtyard. Alex and Heather saw monsters—resembling mannequins—scrambling away on all fours, fleeing from the light.

But both their attention was drawn not to the fleeing creatures, but to the statue of Themis in the center of the courtyard—and the gallows behind it. When the flare burned out, the yard plunged back into darkness. But Alex had already seen everything he needed.

Before pulling out a second flare, he drew his other pistol from its holster and began firing—clearing the courtyard of monsters. Shots rang out one after another. Every bullet found its mark.

Heather covered her ears from the deafening noise. Alex advanced toward the center of the yard—and each shot took down another creature. By the time he reached the center—the entire courtyard was littered with corpses.

Heather had stayed behind the whole time so she wouldn’t fall behind—and only managed to shine her flashlight where Alex was shooting. Alex stopped beside the statue of Themis, holstered his pistols, and shone his flashlight on it. The statue was missing its scales and sword.

That only irritated him—another puzzle. Heather quickly caught up and also noticed the missing parts of the statue. She looked at Alex—and saw his grim expression.

“So we’re going to look for the missing pieces?” she asked cautiously, glancing at him awkwardly.

“Maybe. Or we can do it the easy way—take an alternative route,” Alex said, nodding slightly.

“What kind?” Heather asked, still looking at him.

“Magic. And before you ask the next question—yes, magic exists. Just not the kind you imagine. But it’s real. First, though, let’s check the gallows. Then we’ll look for your father,” Alex said, looking at Heather.

Hearing the word “magic,” Heather opened her mouth to ask more—but hearing the rest, she simply nodded. Seeing that Alex didn’t want to explain anything yet, she followed him to the gallows.

Climbing onto the platform, Alex looked at the stone plaque: Pyramid Head with his massive great knife raised over a condemned man. Deciding to examine it, he stepped closer and looked from the other side—maybe something was hidden there.

Heather climbed up after him and looked at the hanging posts. On one of them, the rope was stained with fresh blood.

She cautiously approached and touched the rope with her fingertips—feeling warm, still-wet blood. As though someone had been executed very recently.

The moment she touched the rope—a mechanism clicked under her feet.

Panic flashed through Heather’s mind. Before she could understand what was happening—she felt herself being yanked by the collar.

In that same instant, right where she had been standing a second ago, a trapdoor opened—and a sharp, rusty spike covered in blood shot up from it. Impaled on the spike was the corpse of a man in a prison uniform.

Seeing this, Heather was terrified—her heart seemed to stop for a moment.

“What did I tell you earlier? Or did my words about not touching anything suspicious just go in one ear and out the other, Cheryl?” Alex’s stern voice sounded right beside her.

Heather turned her head and met Alex’s grim gaze. He was looking at her like a disobedient child caught misbehaving.

Heather didn’t know how to respond. He really had repeated several times: don’t touch anything suspicious. But she couldn’t explain why she had done it. There had just been this feeling—that she had to touch that noose. And it had nearly cost her life.

She looked at Alex—and realized her feet weren’t touching the ground. Right now she was literally hanging in the air—Alex was holding her by the collar.

“Sorry… It’s just that this noose looked the strangest. Out of all of them—only this one had blood on it…” Heather said, trying to find the right words.

“For the love of all that’s holy. Why does every person I try to save keep trying to get themselves killed… Alright, the main thing is you’re alive. That’s what matters most. But don’t do that again,” Alex said, lowering Heather back to the floor.

“I won’t touch anything suspicious anymore… But it looks like this guy has something sticking out from under his clothes,” Heather said, pointing at the impaled corpse—to change the subject.

Alex turned toward the body—and saw a bloodstained piece of paper sticking out from under the collar of the prison uniform. Approaching closer, he pulled the edge—and drew out a folded sheet. After it came an Order amulet—indicating the dead man had been part of the Order.

Unfolding the sheet, Alex and Heather saw a bloodstained map of Toluca Prison.

With the map in hand, Alex began searching for solitary cells and isolation units—where Harry Mason might possibly be held. After all, right beside them lay the corpse of an Order member impaled on a spike, which indicated that Order members came to this place and used it somehow.

Alex traced his finger along the map, plotting a route. Soon he found the necessary locations and how to reach them.

“Solitary cells are in the western part of the prison. We need to go through the showers. And like I said—isolation units are in the basement. Where do we start?” Alex said, pointing at spots on the map.

“I think we should start with the solitary cells,” Heather said, pointing at the map.

Alex nodded and tucked the tattered map into his coat pocket. Climbing down from the gallows, they headed back toward the prison block.

The moment they returned—the block erupted in loud noise again: someone was banging on bars and shouting. Ignoring it, Alex and Heather—guided by the map—headed toward another block—where the solitary cells were located. The passage to the next section was conveniently right behind that strange door with the animal carving.

Alex noticed that the keyhole had a strange shape—it reminded him of something. Realization flashed in his mind.

Instead of smashing the door as usual, he pulled the Order badge from his pocket and inserted it into the keyhole.

He was right—the badge was the key.

A moment later came a click—the doors opened.

“Looks like it wasn’t for nothing that I took this thing with me,” Alex said, holding the cult badge in his hand.

“Could it be that part of the prison is being used by the Order?” Heather asked, frowning slightly.

“Possibly. And if someone’s still there—I wouldn’t mind having a little chat with them. Just this time—don’t get involved in the conversation. Otherwise they’ll start screaming again about how you’re going to give birth to their god,” Alex said, giving Heather a dry look.

“I didn’t know they’d react to me like that. And let me remind you—I only recently found out I’m part of the one they call a monster,” Heather said, staring intently at Alex.

“Alessa isn’t a monster. And neither are you a monster or a vessel for a god, Cheryl. The ones who do things like this to children—they’re the real monsters. Alessa just wants revenge—and she can be understood. Anyone in her place would want the same,” Alex said, gently stroking Heather’s hair.

Hearing his words, Heather felt relief without even realizing it. Stopping stroking her hair, Alex pushed the doors open and stepped into a long prison corridor leading to another section of the prison.

Even though Alex had partially restored the lighting, the lamps in the corridor burned dimly—but even that was enough to keep the monsters away. Rustling sounds came from behind walls and from the ceiling—but the creatures didn’t show themselves.

Ignoring the noise, Alex and Heather walked through the long corridor and reached another prison block.

Alex was certain: if not for the accidentally found map—he would have already started smashing everything to find a way out.

Looking around, he turned toward the showers.

When they reached the place where, according to the map, the door to the showers should have been—they found themselves facing an ordinary prison cell.

“Maybe you’re holding the map wrong? The solitary block isn’t in the western part—it’s in the eastern?” Heather asked, looking at the map in Alex’s hands.

“I’m holding it right. And there should be a door here. Hold the map for a second. I’ll check if we’re in the right place,” Alex said, handing the map to Heather.

Heather took the map without protest and began turning it in her hands—trying to figure out if Alex was oriented correctly.

Alex himself approached the prison cell, grabbed the bars—yanked and broke the lock, opening the door. He stepped up to the wall and lightly tapped it with his fist—listening to the sound. He quickly realized: there was a room on the other side. All that was left was to make a passage.

Alex stepped back, raised his leg—and kicked the wall. The first kick knocked out a large chunk. One more kick—and a big enough hole appeared in the wall to pass through without issue.

Hearing the crash, Heather looked up and saw Alex once again smashing through a wall. And on the other side was indeed the shower room.

“I told you we were going the right way. If there’s no passage—just make one,” Alex said, giving a thumbs-up and looking at Heather.

“I’m getting the impression this is completely normal for you,” Heather said, walking closer.

“I run into this more often than you think. Sometimes it’s easier to punch through a wall than look for a detour,” Alex said, lighting a cigarette.

Heather nodded and peeked through the hole in the wall. On the other side really was the shower room—but the moment she looked in, a nauseating smell of blood hit her face.

Despite the shower being lit, the walls and floor were covered in old dried blood—as though blood, not water, had flowed from the pipes.

Alex stepped through the hole first—then extended a hand to Heather so she wouldn’t fall.

The moment they entered the shower room—Heather felt an even more unpleasant sensation: as though blood was sticking to her skin. The smell was so strong that even her mouth filled with a metallic taste.

“Here, this’ll help,” Alex said, handing her a candy.

“Thanks… Otherwise I’ve got the taste of blood in my mouth from that smell,” Heather said, popping the candy into her mouth to get rid of the taste.

“Then let’s get out of here if you don’t like it. We need to go through that door—and we’ll end up in the solitary cell block,” Alex said, pointing to the door at the far end of the shower room.

Heather nodded eagerly and walked forward—to leave this place as quickly as possible. Even with the sweet taste of candy in her mouth—she still felt the metallic tang of blood. Alex followed, looking around. The shower room was a large circular space with rusty pipes and cracked tiles.

When they were almost at the exit—Alex and Heather heard metallic scraping behind them. Turning their heads—they saw nothing. But the scraping grew clearer. Following the sound, Alex looked up at the ceiling—and saw a monster perched on the rusty pipes.

A tall humanoid with a brown sack over its head and a noose around its neck. Instead of hands—long blades extending straight from the elbows. It was making the scraping sound by dragging its blades across the pipes—each time striking sparks. Seeing the monster, Heather immediately recognized it.

“That’s him… That’s the one who attacked me in the mall. And then I met that strange woman—Claudia,” Heather said in a frightened tone.

“I see… Then hold my backpack. I’m going to have a little chat with it and explain that it’s rude to attack people,” Alex said calmly, handing the backpack to Heather.

“Better let’s just leave…” Heather said, wanting to stop him.

In response Alex gave her a light smile, stroked her hair—and walked forward. Approaching closer, he looked up at the monster—it was still sitting on the pipes. When Alex got close enough—the monster jumped down and landed nearby. In the same instant it lunged at Alex, swinging its blades.

The monster struck downward—aiming to cleave Alex in half. Alex calmly sidestepped at the last moment—the blade sliced through the shower-room tiles.

Before the monster could raise the blade again—Alex stepped on it, pinning it in place. At the same moment the monster swung its second blade—but Alex caught it between two fingers, stopping it cold.

“Well, well. I didn’t know Claudia managed to tame something like this,” Alex said calmly, lighting a cigarette with one hand.

In response the monster let out an incomprehensible growl—still trying to wrench its blades free from Alex’s grip. But Alex kept pressing down on one blade with his foot and held the other between his fingers—not letting the monster break free. Heather, standing a little farther back, was once again shocked by what Alex had just done.

Taking a drag of cigarette smoke, Alex grinned and stubbed the cigarette out on the monster’s face. It let out a scream and began thrashing even harder. Alex only grinned wider—and punched the monster in the face. There was a crunch of broken bones—the filthy sack over its head became soaked with blood.

Alex continued punching the monster’s head—each blow snapping it backward. Stopping the punches, Alex shifted his foot forward slightly—the one pinning the blade. He pressed harder. There was a sound of tearing flesh—the blade that served as the monster’s arm was ripped off.

Having lost an arm, the monster began screaming hysterically and thrashing—splattering blood everywhere. Alex released the second blade—and delivered a spinning kick, sending the monster flying. It crashed through the shower room and slammed back-first into a partition—shattering it.

“I was just thinking—why do you need two blades? One would be enough. What I don’t understand is why Claudia created you. Did she think she could imitate Alessa? After all, Alessa has her own guardians—and Claudia has you, a pathetic copy,” Alex said, picking up the monster’s severed blade.

He understood he was talking to himself—after all, the monster in front of him was just Claudia’s chained dog, which she set on anyone she didn’t like.

The monster, despite its missing arm and shattered partition, began trying to stand. Slipping in its own blood on the tiles, it clumsily attempted to rise. With difficulty it got up and looked at Alex. Alex, without much emotion, held the blade in his hand—and gave a slight wave, as if to say: come on, attack.

The monster charged at Alex with an incomprehensible cry—resembling a wail or screech—swinging its remaining blade. Alex calmly parried the blows—using the monster’s own blade. After another strike Alex lightly kicked its leg—the monster lost balance and began to fall.

At the very last moment Alex positioned the blade right in the path of the fall. The monster fell onto its own blade—which pierced straight through its chest. The body twitched slightly—and finally went limp.

Heather, who had watched the entire thing, only came back to herself after the monster died. The way it died—by its own weapon—gave her a strange feeling.

“Pyramid Head was way more interesting than this thing. What else can you expect from a knockoff,” Alex said, lightly kicking the dead monster’s head.

“Why do you call this monster a knockoff? And how is it connected to that woman?” Heather asked, approaching Alex and cautiously looking at the dead creature.

“Because Claudia used to be friends with Alessa in the past. How I know that—I won’t tell you. But I’ll tell you that Claudia was one of the people who betrayed Alessa. And that’s all you need to know,” Alex said, taking his backpack from Heather’s hands.

“How much do you actually know? Every time you say things only someone deeply involved would know,” Heather asked, looking at Alex.

“I’ve never been here before. But I know a lot. It’s part of my job—to know everything that’s going on. Maybe at the end I’ll tell you why I know so much. But right now I’m not going to. Because it’s not the kind of truth you’ll want to hear,” Alex said calmly, starting to walk forward to leave the shower room.

Heather could only frown for a moment at his words—and a second later sigh, realizing there was no point in asking questions. After all, he had been protecting her from the very beginning.

She glanced once more at the monster that had attacked her in the mall—and aimed her pistol at it.

A gunshot rang out in the shower room—a bullet hole appeared in the monster’s head, blood beginning to seep from it. Alex, who had already reached the door, heard the shot—turned his head toward Heather and frowned for a moment, noticing what she had done.

But seeing that it brought no consequences—and rather relief, like a final farewell—he nodded, perfectly understanding: Heather was part of Alessa. And in this way she had said a final goodbye to Claudia—even if Claudia herself wasn’t here, only the monster she had created and controlled.

On Heather’s face was a strange look of relief. She looked at Alex—and even smiled slightly, despite the unpleasant surroundings. When Heather approached Alex—she nodded, showing she was ready to continue. Alex smiled lightly and stroked her hair.

Leaving the shower room, Alex led Heather farther—toward the solitary cell block. After navigating yet another maze of corridors, they emerged into a spacious area—a guard post with another booth.

Entering the booth, Alex quickly scanned the room and saw: an iron pipe had been jammed into the panel controlling the cell doors. Approaching the panel, he yanked the pipe out—and saw that the cell door control system had been irreversibly destroyed.

“Looks like someone really didn’t want anyone opening the doors here,” Heather said, shining her flashlight on the mechanism.

“And that means someone—or something—is here. And if Claudia’s chained dog showed up on our path—that means there’s someone here that Claudia hates,” Alex said, calmly stroking his chin.

“And who could have pissed off that crazy bitch?” Heather asked, looking at Alex.

“We’ll find out soon enough. First we need to figure out which cell they’re keeping him in,” Alex said, leaving the guard booth.

Heather nodded and hurried after him. Leaving the booth, Alex approached an iron door—and effortlessly pried it open.

Opening the passage, he saw rows of solitary cells stretching along the corridor.

Approaching the nearest one, Alex slid open the viewing slot to look inside. He saw an unpleasant sight: thousands of beetles swarmed in the cell, crawling over the body of a dead man.

Heather also wanted to look—but Alex gently pressed his palm against her face, signaling: better not.

Heather nodded—and Alex continued checking one cell after another.

Until a distant male voice came from one of them.

“Hey, is anyone out there?” it called—becoming clearer.

Alex and Heather exchanged glances and moved toward the voice.

Approaching the cell, Alex stopped—to listen. To Heather the male voice sounded very familiar.

Sliding open the viewing slot of the solitary cell, Alex saw a man inside, chained to a chair with iron shackles. Dark hair, thin-framed glasses.

Alex, of course, recognized him—it was Vincent Smith, one of the Order’s priests. He handled finances—and skimmed part of the money for his own needs. Thanks to his manipulative charisma, he always came out clean.

Vincent, chained to the chair, also noticed the eyes looking at him—and smiled slightly.

Sighing, Alex pulled the iron cell door toward him—and effortlessly opened it.

Alex and Heather stepped into the cell. Vincent, noticing Heather, smiled slightly.

Heather also realized why the voice had sounded so familiar.

“Well, well, look who’s here. Nice to see you again, Heather. Didn’t expect we’d meet again so soon—and in a place like this. Did that crazy bitch catch you too—but you escaped from her again?” Vincent said with a light smile.

“I see you ended up exactly where you belong,” Heather replied in an irritated tone.

“Oh, Heather… Some things happen because they happen. Who would’ve thought that crazy bitch would turn out to be this crazy… And who is this mysterious companion of yours? Care to introduce us?” Vincent said, looking at Heather, then shifting his gaze to Alex.

“That’s not important. You’d better tell me—how far has Claudia gone in her madness? And where is the second part of the Metatron Seal?” Alex said calmly, lighting a cigarette.

“Oh, how serious. But as you can see—my hands are tied. I can’t answer your question,” Vincent said, showing he was still chained to the chair.

“The last Order member didn’t want to talk either. But after a couple of nails driven into his hand, he happily answered all my questions. And if you don’t want to end up as a mangled corpse—answer me. And don’t even try looking at Cheryl. She won’t help you. And while I’m here—your usual verbal manipulations won’t do you much good,” Alex said, leaning closer to Vincent and blowing cigarette smoke in his face.

Vincent looked into Alex’s eyes—and now could fully see him.

It was hard not to notice the state of Alex’s clothes: completely covered in blood and dirt. While Heather was only dirty.

Looking into Alex’s empty eyes, Vincent felt a lump rise in his throat—which he swallowed with difficulty. It was as though the man in front of him could see right through him. And if he tried his old tricks—he definitely wouldn’t like the consequences.

Vincent himself didn’t understand why—but Alex’s gaze scared him far more than Alessa scared all the Order members.

To be continued…

(For God’s sake, I hope you’re getting some of the hints about what Alex is doing and what’s going on with Heather. Because if not, I’ll be happy to explain it all to you, or at least try. Although I’ve already left a greasy hint that shouldn’t be hard to understand. Oh well, I’m so hungry right now that I’d better go eat. Food tastes better when it’s hot.)

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep