Thud!
The heavy door slammed shut.
Once again, the darkness was locked out.
As the dark forces lingered, everyone prayed fervently.
Until the evil in the night retreated and the white fog rolled in.
Barry, who'd snuck a little nibble of the faith's light, acted like he'd just finished praying and slowly opened his eyes.
At the church's center, Bishop Chrisbella was softly chatting with a follower. When they finished, the follower got a small bundle of supplies.
One person left, and another lucky soul was chosen to bask in the beloved bishop's care. The congregation was practically over the moon.
This had been going on for days.
…
Another calm, ordinary day.
Not far off, Chrisbella was whispering with her trusted confidants, her eyes occasionally flicking toward the followers below.
A few minutes later, the gathered believers huddled with their buddies, catching up.
Barry didn't care much for the chit-chat. He just wanted to get home and sort through his scavenging haul.
He stood to leave but noticed Chrisbella's goons blocking the door. A few older folks tried to slip out but were stopped. Clearly, no one was allowed to leave.
They looked at the bishop, confused, hoping for an explanation.
Chrisbella gave a serene smile as a follower draped a pale purple robe over her shoulders.
Hiss!
The crowd gasped, then buzzed with excitement. Something big was about to go down!
The last time the bishop wore that robe was for a sinner's trial.
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"To those with clear eyes, the truth is plain as day!"
Chrisbella's voice was icy, her gaze sharp with menace as it swept the room. The followers froze, too scared to meet her eyes.
Anyone who dared defy the bishop never met a good end.
Who was it? Who'd be crazy enough?
"I know, since the apocalypse came, you've faced so much darkness, endured so many trials."
"Faithful followers, the Lord is with you."
Chrisbella raised her arm, and the crowd roared in response.
It was like they were seeing some radiant figure from a past life. They threw their hands up, shouting, some crying with emotion, others waving to make sure they were noticed.
Followers: ψ(T＿T)ψ
Savoring the crowd's cheers, Chrisbella nodded with satisfaction, then waved them quiet to continue:
"But some among us lack the strength of faith. They've fallen to darkness, aiding evil! It pains me to say, but we have a traitor in our midst."
The followers exchanged looks, whispering. Slowly, anger spread across their faces, and the room erupted!
"Ungrateful scum!"
"Kill him!"
"Burn the traitor! Burn the traitor!"
The crowd's chants grew louder.
Seeing most of them still so loyal, Chrisbella felt reassured. As long as they purged the poison, with these faithful, Silent Hill could hold on for another thirty years!
In the crowd, Barry joined the shouting to blend in.
Now he got it—what was happening.
In simple terms, there was a traitor among the followers. Someone wasn't drinking Chrisbella's Kool-Aid, and now they were about to get served.
But who was it?
Tough to guess.
Anna, nearby, was screaming her lungs out, and all around were more "Annas." They looked different but shared the same crazed devotion.
Blind, foolish faith. A mob that didn't care about right or wrong. How many innocents had died under this so-called holy light?
"Born-evil outsider, demon's accomplice, defiler of faith—you've got nowhere to hide!"
Chrisbella pressed her thumb, ring finger, and middle finger together, forming a gesture that looked a lot like a rock-and-roll sign but was straight out of some satanic playbook. She pointed right at Barry in the crowd.
"Me?"
The people around Barry scattered, forming an empty circle, terrified they'd be the ones called out.
"No way! I'm a good follower. I've done my part for the church. This has gotta be a mistake!"
Barry's heart sank, thinking he'd been exposed. But then he realized—he hadn't even started snitching yet. What the hell?
"Bishop, could this be a mix-up? Barry's not like that!"
Anna, who'd instinctively stepped back, snapped out of it. Seeing Barry accused, she stepped up to defend him.
In her heart, Barry was a good guy, definitely on their side.
"Silence, Anna!" Her mother, Eleanor, rushed out, yanked her back, and turned to the bishop. "It's gotta be this devil tempting my poor daughter. Chrisbella, I—"
"I know, Eleanor. The devil's just too cunning," Chrisbella snapped. "Seize him! Unmask his true face!"
After talking to the followers one by one, Chrisbella was 90% sure Barry was the reason the faith's light kept weakening. It had to be this evil outsider.
Lock him up and make an example of him.
At her command, four scavengers in their rugged gear closed in, each holding a weapon—elite hunters among the followers.
"Oh, crap!"
Barry cursed, slipping into local lingo. He knew he couldn't talk his way out of this. Time to make a run for it.
This was their turf, and he was outmatched.
Surrender meant death. He had to fight!
Pulling a fruit knife from his bag, Barry twirled it with a flourish, lunged forward, and slashed in a wide, dramatic arc.
"Gah! He's got a knife!"
The followers jumped back, startled, retreating further.
Barry didn't hesitate. Yelling wildly, he waved the knife side to side, radiating a "come closer and I'll gut you" vibe.
The timid followers backed off. Loyalty was just talk—nobody wanted to die. A path to the door opened up.
If he could just reach it, the road would stretch on.
Barry charged, the crowd parting as the goons chased him.
Three seconds later, he faced the first thug in his way—an old guy named Adam.
Adam swung a lead pipe, aiming for Barry's head with a vicious strike.
Damn old man, going for the kill!
The more dangerous the situation, the sharper Barry's focus became, his senses almost superhuman.
The moment Adam swung, Barry sensed it. He could even see the pipe's trajectory clear as day.
And his body reacted in time!
With a quick sidestep, Barry dodged the pipe's swing. His knife flicked out, stabbing Adam's hand.
Adam screamed, dropping the pipe.
Clang!
Barry caught it midair, then kicked out. A sickening crack echoed as Adam crumpled like a sack of potatoes.
One down.
Barry glanced ahead. The two goons guarding the door exchanged a look, roared, and charged together.
As they closed in—
Whoosh!
Out of nowhere, Barry hurled the fruit knife, spinning through the air.
A righteous sneak attack!