Chapter 81: Carrie’s Request

Chapter 81: Chapter 81: Carrie’s Request

Chapter 81: Carrie’s Request

Carrie White’s request happened to fit almost perfectly with what Axel Vance had already been thinking. She possessed enormous supernatural potential but almost no control, and with the right guidance, she could eventually become a valuable ally instead of a walking disaster waiting for the wrong emotional trigger. Helping her deal with the home environment feeding that instability would also be the decent thing to do.

"What kind of favor?" Axel asked. Carrie lowered her head and twisted the cuffs of her sleeves between nervous fingers, clearly struggling to decide how much she was willing to reveal. After several seconds, she finally forced herself to speak.

"My mother is very religious," Carrie whispered. "Not just normal religious. Sometimes it feels like religion is the only thing she sees."

Her voice grew quieter. "She says there’s sin inside me, that I was born because of sin, and that bad thoughts can let the devil into me." Carrie swallowed hard before adding, "Whenever she thinks I’ve done something wrong, she locks me in the prayer room and makes me repent until she decides I’ve learned my lesson."

Axel’s expression tightened.

That explained far too much.

A teenager forced to live for years under fear, shame, isolation, and psychological punishment would accumulate enough emotional pressure even without supernatural abilities. Give that same teenager Carrie’s telekinetic power, tie the power directly to extreme emotion, and the result was exactly what Axel had seen inside the bus.

"So what do you want me to do?" Axel asked.

Carrie finally looked up. There was a small trace of hope behind the fear in her eyes. "When you used that Bible earlier... were you doing something like a priest?"

Axel paused.

Technically, no.

Practically, his recent work included blessing water, purifying ghosts, reading scripture against supernatural entities, and carrying a Bible into fights with things that should not exist. At this point, arguing over job descriptions felt almost pointless.

"Close enough for the kind of work I do," Axel replied.

Carrie’s expression brightened immediately. "Then could you talk to my mother like a priest?" She hesitated before continuing, "She doesn’t listen to me, but she might listen to someone she thinks understands God better than I do."

Axel considered the request for a moment.

It was hardly unreasonable.

More importantly, speaking with Margaret White would let him see exactly what Carrie was dealing with at home and determine whether there was anything supernatural involved beyond Carrie herself. "All right."

Carrie blinked.

"You’ll do it?"

"I said I would."

For the first time since Axel had met her, a genuine smile appeared on Carrie’s face. It was still small and uncertain, but the frightened, withdrawn girl briefly looked like an ordinary high-school student. Axel found that reaction more convincing than any promise she could have made.

Some time later, roadside assistance finally arrived to deal with the damaged school bus. The vehicle was towed back toward Greenville, while the students were packed together under the remaining intact section of roof and repeatedly warned not to touch anything loose. Axel spent most of the ride watching the surrounding town come into view.

Greenville looked like a typical small Southern community. The streets were narrow, most buildings were only one or two stories high, and houses sat far enough apart that the town felt quieter than anywhere Axel had lived in Miami. Churches appeared surprisingly often along the route, their steeples rising above low rooftops and old trees.

People gathered at intersections to stare at the school bus as it passed. Considering the enormous hole in the roof and the bloodstains still visible inside, Axel could hardly blame them. By the time the bus finally stopped near the center of town, half the nearby pedestrians looked convinced they had just witnessed the aftermath of a tornado.

Axel stepped down and looked toward the driver. "I need a phone. Police station nearby?" The long-haired driver pointed across the street toward a small red-brick building.

"Right there," he said. "Ask for whoever’s working the desk."

Two aging patrol cars were parked outside the station. Axel crossed the street, pushed through the front door, and found only one heavyset middle-aged officer behind the desk, halfway through a sandwich. The man looked up immediately when the bloodstained stranger entered.

Axel took out his badge before the officer had to ask. "Afternoon. Axel Vance, Miami Police Department." He put the identification where the man could inspect it and added, "I ran into some trouble and need to make a long-distance call."

The officer looked Axel up and down. Torn clothes, dried blood, recently healed cuts, and the remains of what had clearly been a very bad day made the explanation easy to believe. He pointed toward a telephone in the corner.

"Go ahead. Long-distance charges are yours."

Then he took another bite of his sandwich and asked, "You need to file a report?"

Axel gave him a tired smile. "Officer, if I tried to explain today, your sandwich would get cold."

The man stopped chewing.

Axel walked to the phone.

He dialed the police station near Crystal Lake, hoping Lionel or Seth had already found some way back. The officer who answered told him neither man had checked in yet.

Axel frowned. "If either Lionel Cosgrove or Dr. Seth Brundle contacts you, tell them Axel Vance called from Greenville, Louisiana." He gave the number of the local station and added, "Have them call me or leave word immediately."

After hanging up, Axel rubbed the bridge of his nose.

He had never appreciated smartphones enough.

The 1980s were perfectly manageable until someone got abducted by an immortal flying monster and dropped several states away from everyone he knew. Then suddenly the inability to send one message became the most irritating problem in the world.

Axel paid the long-distance charge and stepped back outside.

Carrie was waiting near the entrance.

"Did you reach them?" she asked.

"Not yet."

Her fingers tightened around her backpack strap. "Do you... still have time?"

Axel nodded. "Lead the way."

Carrie’s house stood near the edge of town, away from the more active streets. It was an aging two-story wooden home with peeling paint, a crooked fence, and weeds spreading across a yard that clearly had not received much attention in months. Even before reaching the porch, Axel could feel how isolated the place seemed from the rest of the neighborhood.

Carrie pushed open the creaking gate and lowered her voice. "My mother should be home." She looked toward the closed curtains and added, "She doesn’t like strangers."

"Noted."

They walked up the porch steps.

Carrie had just taken out her key when the door opened from the inside.

A thin woman stood in the doorway.

Her resemblance to Carrie was immediately obvious, but years of exhaustion had sharpened the older woman’s features. Margaret White had pale skin, hollow-looking eyes, and a rigid posture beneath a plain black dress, while a large silver crucifix hung prominently against her chest.

Her gaze went first to Carrie.

"Carrie."

The single word was enough to make the girl tense.

"Why are you home this late?" Margaret asked coldly. "School ended hours ago."

"Mom, I—"

Margaret’s attention shifted to Axel.

Her expression hardened instantly.

"Who is this man?"

Carrie flinched. "This is Father Vance. He... he helped me and Chris today."

The word Father changed Margaret’s expression slightly. The hostility did not disappear, but some of the suspicion turned into cautious attention.

Axel stepped forward with a calm smile. "Good afternoon, Mrs. White. Father Vance." He did not particularly enjoy pretending to be ordained clergy, but correcting Carrie in front of her mother would defeat the entire purpose of coming here.

"I ran into some trouble on the road today and happened to cross paths with your daughter," Axel continued. "Carrie mentioned that faith is very important in your household, so I thought I should come by and introduce myself."

Margaret stared at him for several long seconds.

Then she stepped aside.

"Come in."

Axel entered.

The house was dim even though it was still daylight outside. Heavy curtains blocked most of the windows, and the walls were crowded with crosses, scripture plaques, and severe religious paintings that left almost no open space.

One image dominated the living room.

A large, graphic depiction of Christ’s crucifixion hung in the center of the wall, emphasizing blood and suffering far more than comfort or redemption. Burned candle wax covered several nearby surfaces, while the air smelled faintly of mildew, old wood, and smoke.

Axel’s brows drew together.

Something about the house felt wrong.

Not supernatural.

At least not immediately.

But deeply unhealthy.

The problem was not that Margaret was religious. Axel had met sincere believers, priests, churchgoing families, and people whose faith genuinely gave them stability and compassion. This house instead felt built around fear, punishment, isolation, and constant obsession with sin.

That distinction mattered.

Margaret’s behavior reminded Axel less of ordinary devotion and more of the coercive patterns he had repeatedly seen around cults. Isolation from outsiders, emotional control, punishment disguised as spiritual correction, and keeping a frightened dependent person trapped inside an absolute worldview were familiar warning signs regardless of what language was used to justify them.

Carrie noticed Axel’s expression and quickly said, "Mom, I’ll get some water."

Margaret did not answer her.

Her eyes remained fixed on Axel.

"Please sit."

Axel lowered himself onto the sofa.

Margaret took the chair opposite him and sat with her hands folded stiffly across her knees. Carrie disappeared into the kitchen while the two adults studied one another in silence.

"You said you’re a priest?" Margaret asked.

"Yes."

"What diocese?"

Axel had expected something like that.

"Miami."

Margaret repeated the word slowly. "Miami."

Suspicion returned to her eyes.

"Then why are you in Louisiana?"

Axel kept his expression relaxed. "Private business took me out of state. I happened to be passing through Greenville when today’s accident occurred."

Margaret watched him for a long moment.

Then she nodded.

"The Lord’s will."

Axel almost smiled.

Carrie returned carrying two glasses of water. She handed one to Axel, set the other near her mother, then remained standing behind Margaret rather than taking a seat herself.

Axel noticed that too.

He took a small sip.

"Carrie mentioned you to me," he said. "She told me you’re deeply devoted to your faith."

Margaret’s expression finally softened.

"Faith is the only thing that keeps me alive," she replied. "This world is filled with darkness, temptation, and sin. Everywhere you look, people are being led away from God."

Her fingers tightened together.

"Only the Lord can save us."

Axel had heard that kind of absolute language before.

Not from ordinary believers.

From people who used certainty as a weapon.

He leaned back slightly and looked at Margaret.

"Is that so?"

[Reader Event Active]

500 Power Stones = +1 Extra Chapter

10 Reviews = +1 Extra Chapter

Thanks for reading!

20+advance Chapters on P1treon Soulforger