Under the dim light, Catherine Eddowes, heavily made-up, stood at the edge of an alley smoking. She was scantily clad, her pale arms and legs exposed to the air. A gust of wind blew by, and she shivered involuntarily.


    Business hadn’t been good lately; a few regular customers had disappeared for quite some time.


    “Is it time for me to go back to my hometown and get married?”


    Catherine exhaled a puff of smoke, feeling frustrated. Having grown accustomed to a life of comfort, she was not ready to leave her current profession.


    The sound of heavy footsteps came from nearby, and Catherine felt an unexpected surge of joy. She quickly dropped her cigarette to the ground and stomped it out with her red high heel.


    A man wearing a black bowler hat and a dark suit emerged from the shadows and approached Catherine.


    Seeing his attire, Catherine felt a brief moment of doubt, but it quickly vanished.


    “Hey dear, looking for some fun?” Catherine asked sweetly, instinctively pushing her chest forward.


    “How much?” The man’s voice was low and cold.


    Under the dim light, Catherine couldn’t make out his features clearly. She held out her hand. “Twenty pounds.”


    “Come to my place, five more pounds,” the man said without hesitation, then turned and walked away.


    “Wait up, handsome!” Catherine hurried after him, disappearing into the darkness with the man.


    The man led Catherine through a maze of alleys, drawing closer and closer to Dawn Church.


    “Hey, handsome, how much further is your place?” Catherine complained. Wearing high heels, she struggled to keep up with the man’s pace, her forehead damp with sweat.


    The man stopped abruptly and turned to face her, his gaze piercing.


    Catherine cursed him silently but suddenly felt something sharp and cold slash across her neck—too fast for her to react. Her eyes widened in shock, her hands instinctively reaching for her throat, only to feel warm blood gushing out.


    The man removed his bowler hat, revealing a face twisted with frenzy and eagerness. Like a ravenous wolf, he lunged at Catherine, sinking his teeth into her neck wound and drinking the blood that flowed out.


    Catherine’s body twitched a few times before going still. The man, satisfied that she was dead, stood and composed himself. “What a pleasure,” he murmured, licking the blood from his lips as his eyes glazed over, savoring the memory of the taste.


    The frenzy on his face gave way to solemnity as he crouched down. He carefully crossed Catherine’s hands over her chest and straightened her legs. Then, from his pocket, he produced a green pendant carved with ancient patterns and gently placed it in her hand.If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    Standing tall before Catherine’s corpse, the man’s deep voice echoed in the dark alley:


    “Great Lord of Corruption, eternal master of chaos and disorder! You are the origin of fear and despair, the ruler of upheaval and turmoil!”


    “Please Savor the flesh and soul and grant me boundless power!”


    When his prayer ended, the man looked at Catherine’s body and saw a faint glow emanating from the green pendant in her hand.


    The Great Lord of Corruption had answered his call!


    Ecstatic, the man reached out to retrieve the pendant. But just then, Catherine, who had been lying lifeless, suddenly opened her dead, hollow eyes. She grabbed the man’s neck with unnatural strength, her grip unyielding.


    The man gasped for air, clawing at her hands in terror, but his efforts were futile. Up close, the gaping wound on Catherine’s neck continued to bleed profusely.


    “Hey dear, looking for some fun?” Her hoarse voice seemed to echo from the underworld. Staring straight at the man, her ghastly pale face twisted into a sinister smile.


    As fear consumed him, the man’s flailing arms stilled, his mind overcome by despair.


    ---


    Chris Jamison approached the scene, finding the man kneeling beside Catherine’s body, his hands flailing in the air, his face contorted in terror.


    “Hmm?” Chris frowned. He kicked the man’s body, which fell to the ground lifeless.


    “Heartless enough to kill, but scared to death by a mere illusion,” Chris muttered. Squatting down, he pocketed the green pendant from Catherine’s lifeless hand and began searching the man’s belongings.


    Chris rummaged through the man’s pockets, finding nothing but a bloodied dagger. He continued his search, eventually pulling a hard card from inside the man’s coat. The cover of the invitation bore an eerie, torn mask at the top, with twisted letters below:


    “Church of Chaos.”


    Chris’s heart skipped a beat as he pocketed the invitation. Standing up, he carefully checked his clothes for bloodstains. After ensuring he was clean, he exhaled in relief and glanced at Catherine’s body.


    Mimicking Imir’s actions, he raised his right hand to touch his forehead and chest in a ritual gesture.


    “May the Dawn Goddess have mercy, and may your soul rest in peace.”


    Chris turned and walked away, his figure vanishing around the corner, leaving two corpses behind to bear witness to the night.


    Chris drove back to the grocery, knowing he’d be in for a lecture from Imir after being out so late. Parking on the street, he stepped out of the car and immediately saw Imir standing at the entrance.


    “Where have you been?” Imir’s towering figure nearly blocked out the grocery’s lights, his stern gaze fixed on Chris, full of reproach.


    Chris quickly walked up and pulled Imir by the arm toward the grocery. “Relax, I was just driving around the streets. Didn’t go to the bar, didn’t go to the club, didn’t—”


    “Don’t you dare!” Imir interrupted sharply, his tone severe. “As a follower of the Goddess, you are forbidden from those places!”


    Chris groaned inwardly but resorted to his trump card:


    “Dad, if you don’t believe me, I can swear on the Dawn Goddess.”


    Sure enough, Imir’s expression softened slightly, and he nodded. “Remember, as a follower, your behavior matters. The Goddess is always watching you.”


    “Got it,” Chris replied, heading upstairs while muttering under his breath.


    Earlier that day, Imir claimed the Goddess wasn’t constantly watching over Massa. Now, apparently, the Goddess was always watching him.


    The Dawn Goddess sure had flexible sight.


    Locking his bedroom door, Chris eagerly reviewed his haul from the night. Placing the green pendant and invitation on his desk, he hesitated before picking up the pendant to examine it.


    The pendant’s material was smooth, emitting a faint glow under the lamp. The chaotic patterns etched on it seemed to form obscure symbols, drawing Chris’s gaze deeper. His soul suddenly quivered, and he snapped back to reality, pale-faced and sweating.


    “What is this thing?” Chris muttered, shaken.


    The symbols on the pendant had seemed to lock onto his consciousness with an irresistible pull.


    “Great Lord of Corruption.” He recalled the man’s prayer beside Catherine’s corpse. Glancing at the pendant again, Chris found it inert. He cautiously examined it once more, but nothing happened.


    Exhaling deeply, he placed the pendant in a drawer and turned his attention to the invitation from the Church of Chaos.