Chapter 141 “Honest and Reliable Mr. Duncan”
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The psychiatrist, Heidi, presented an air of mystery that did nothing to alleviate the mounting tension in the room. She opened a box, revealing items that were undeniably unsettling. Watching the visible terror wash over the faces of Duncan and his niece Nina, Heidi couldn’t suppress a smile. Finding amusement in their reactions was, in some odd way, one of the satisfying perks of her chosen profession.
“Please fill this out,” Heidi requested, passing a densely worded printed form across the table to Nina.
With a shaky hand, Nina accepted it. “I was honestly worried those… tools were intended for some sort of procedure on me,” she said, her voice tinged with relief.
Heidi chuckled darkly, her eyes narrowing into slits. “These tools are instrumental in my work, both for the church and various governmental agencies. I often cross paths with individuals holding dangerous, even extremist beliefs. Individuals plagued with minds teeming with heresy and other troubling thoughts. These tools enable me to deeply probe those minds.”
As Duncan absorbed Heidi’s ominous words, a chill crawled down his spine. But he wasn’t the only one growing uneasy. Shirley, who had been doing her best to remain inconspicuous, found it difficult to ignore the unfolding conversation. The room’s thick atmosphere overwhelmed her, causing her to instinctively pull back and further isolate herself. She pretended to be preoccupied with organizing the shelves, but her attention was fully on the unsettling exchange.
“This place is absolutely terrifying,” Shirley communicated telepathically to Dog, her spectral companion. “As if Mr. Duncan’s idiosyncrasies weren’t enough, now we have an inquisitor making a guest appearance. And this Heidi woman…”
Dog’s mental response was tinged with a sense of urgent panic. “I’m as clueless as you are! Who could have possibly predicted a ghostly sea captain showing up on dry land? And why would someone like her—a freaking inquisitor—be a guest in this establishment? This is beyond any reasonable comprehension. And just for the record, I am merely a supernatural canine!”
Observing the scenario unfold from her hidden vantage point, Shirley reflected, “This whole setup is as absurd as telling a fish that it might one day perish in a car crash.”
Dog retorted quickly, “Don’t bring up ‘fish’. The mere thought terrifies me.”
Puzzled, Shirley queried, “Since when are you afraid of fish?”
“Now’s not the time for that discussion,” Dog interrupted. “I don’t want that inquisitor noticing our presence. While I don’t think she has the ability to see me, something about Mr. Duncan’s aura seems to be interfering with my own abilities.”
Taking Dog’s admonition to heart, Shirley carefully relocated to an even more obscure part of the room. She tucked herself behind an antique cabinet, hoping her presence would remain unnoticed in the increasingly unsettling atmosphere.
As Nina studied the form Heidi had extended to her, she couldn’t help but notice its eerily familiar format. The layout, the line of questioning—it all echoed the paperwork she’d had to complete when attending her esoteric occult studies courses or visiting museums dedicated to the supernatural. Yet, among the standard queries, she found an odd smattering of unusual questions that gave her pause.
As she filled in her answers, her curiosity got the better of her. “Earlier, you mentioned your approach being quite specialized,” Nina observed, looking up at Heidi. “So, I’m a bit surprised to see a form that appears almost identical to what a conventional medical practitioner might utilize.”
A grin curled the corners of Heidi’s mouth, and she unconsciously twirled an amethyst pendant that dangled from her necklace. “You see, this form functions as a mere initial stage in the diagnostic process of psychometrics. While many in my field may consider their assessment complete after such a questionnaire, for me, it’s merely the opening act.”
Overhearing the conversation, Vanna found her eyes inexorably drawn to the pendant. “You’ve been wearing that amethyst quite frequently. Does it hold a special significance for you?”
Heidi paused, momentarily caught off guard. Her eyes rested on the pendant, and for a brief second, a look of nostalgia flickered across her features. “Not especially,” she responded, regaining her composure. “It’s just that it’s rather rare for my father to gift me anything. What makes this even more intriguing is that he ‘purchased’ it from right here.”
The stress on the word “purchased” seemed deliberately placed, almost as if to dispel any assumptions that the pendant might have been freely given.
Duncan, overhearing this from a distance, interjected, confirming Heidi’s claim. “Ah yes, that piece is indeed from our exclusive collection. I trust it serves you well.”
Vanna couldn’t help but contemplate this revelation. From her discerning eye, the pendant seemed nothing more than a well-crafted imitation. The notion that Morris, with his extensive historical and arcane knowledge, could have been fooled into acquiring a mere replica was confounding.
However, a sense of decorum kept her from vocalizing these thoughts, particularly in Duncan’s presence. Just then, Nina extended the filled-out form towards Heidi. “I’ve completed it. What can you make out from it?”
Heidi took the form and casually glanced at it before setting it aside. “I’ve been watching you as you filled out the questionnaire, paying close attention not just to your answers but also to the minute changes in your facial expressions,” she said, locking eyes with Nina. “Might you be grappling with a deeply rooted psychological trauma that’s lain dormant for years? Has recent stress acted as a catalyst, bringing it to the surface? Also, have your recurring nightmares subsided lately due to a reduction in stress, or has the point of your stress merely shifted?”
Nina was flabbergasted, astonished at the penetrating depth of Heidi’s analysis. Almost instinctively, her eyes flickered toward her Uncle Duncan. Her facial expression, tinged with a blend of bewilderment and trepidation, hinted at a labyrinth of unexplored emotional complexities between them, issues they had yet to confront openly.
“For the next phase of our spiritual therapy to be effective, it is crucial that we have a tranquil and isolated environment,” Heidi articulated, locking eyes with Duncan for a moment to emphasize the importance of the setting. “However, before we proceed, we must first obtain consent both from Nina’s legal guardian and, more crucially, from Nina herself.”
Duncan responded by pointing towards the ornate staircase that led to the upper floors of his antique-filled residence. “There’s a room upstairs, one that has always emanated a peaceful aura. It should suffice for our needs,” he said, shifting his focus to Nina. “Would you be comfortable with that arrangement?”
Nina looked into Duncan’s eyes and saw only the sincere concern of a guardian. “That sounds fine by me,” she assented, although a faint glimmer of apprehension still danced in her eyes—a detail that Heidi, with her finely honed observational skills, did not miss.
“Nina, I want to put your mind at ease,” Heidi said, her voice imbued with an inviting mix of professional authority and genuine compassion. “Today’s session will involve nothing more than a series of gentle mental relaxation exercises. You’re not an anomaly; you’re facing the same stress and anxieties that plague us all. We won’t be employing any specialized tools—just some conversation and a few guided questions.”
This forthright clarification seemed to dissolve the last vestiges of tension within Nina, who then gave Duncan an appreciative nod. Following that, Heidi led her up the staircase to the designated room.
With Nina and Heidi now out of sight, Duncan was left alone with Vanna, the inquisitor who was shrouded in her own layers of mystery. Meanwhile, Shirley managed to maintain her hidden vantage point concealed behind an ornate bookshelf by pretending to dust the cabinets.
Today was Duncan’s first face-to-face meeting with Vanna since the unintentional marking that had created an arcane connection between them. He felt a palpable intensification of the mark’s energy, a testament to the rekindling spiritual fire within Vanna due to their close proximity. To avoid alerting any divine overseers who might be watching Vanna, Duncan took great care to suppress the growing power of the mark, thereby sustaining their mysterious “connection.”
Vanna, sitting across from Duncan, found herself just as intrigued by him as he was by her. Though her immediate reason for being in the antique store was to accompany Heidi, another motive gnawed at her: the anomalies surrounding the recent museum fire. On paper, the fire’s rapid containment seemed inexplicably miraculous. Moreover, Heidi had reported seeing an enigmatic symbol—a suspected “sun fragment”—during the incident. Adding to this conundrum was Duncan’s seemingly miraculous act of dashing into the fiery maelstrom without sustaining any harm. Though she had no concrete evidence linking these events, Vanna’s intuition guided her unerringly to this place.
Deciding it was time to confront the issue directly, Vanna began her line of questioning. “Mr. Duncan,” she said, her expression as tranquil as a placid lake, “I have several questions regarding the museum fire. May I proceed?”
“Absolutely,” Duncan responded, his composure as unyielding as a granite cliff. “Having been directly involved in the incident, I should be able to offer some insights.”
Grateful for his willingness, Vanna inclined her head slightly in acknowledgment before delving deeper. “When you made the courageous decision to enter the museum, the flames were still rampant, were they not?”
“Indeed,” Duncan confirmed, his eyes narrowing as he selected his words with deliberate caution. He knew he was speaking to an Inquisitor, and as such, any information volunteered would need to be carefully weighed. “The fire was ferocious, almost malevolent in its appetite for destruction. It was particularly concentrated along the corridor leading to the main gallery. By the time I got there, it appeared to have swallowed almost everything that lay in its path.”
Vanna, her eyes unblinking and fixated on Duncan, continued her line of questioning. “And yet you managed to emerge from this blazing maelstrom without so much as a scratch. Could you delve into your experience within the museum a bit further?”
Pausing to ponder, Duncan took a moment to collect his thoughts. Finally, he ventured, “It’s an episode that I myself find baffling. Just when it seemed that the walls of fire would close in, a rather inexplicable phenomenon occurred: the flames began to diminish, almost as if snuffed out by an invisible hand. It wasn’t due to the water hoses from the firefighters, nor had the fuel that fed the fire run its course. The flames simply… dissipated, vanished into the ether, followed by the thick, choking smoke.”
With a sweeping motion of his hands, Duncan expressed a sense of awe. “Was it divine intervention? Could it be that the goddess herself chose to bestow her blessing upon that dire situation?”
At this point, the atmosphere was shattered by an abrupt clatter—Shirley, tucked behind the bookshelf, had accidentally knocked over a delicate wooden sculpture.
“Watch out!” Duncan cried, his voice tinged with the urgency of a shopkeeper concerned for his wares. “That sculpture’s base has been compromised multiple times already. It’s currently held together by little more than some craft glue. Another mishap could be its end!”
Vanna’s eyes flickered briefly towards the direction of the disturbance, then resettled on Duncan. Her countenance seemed to harden ever so slightly. “The goddess’ watchful eyes are ever upon our city-state,” she said, her voice shifting into a more meditative timbre. “From this conversation, I gather that you are, at the very least, a man of deep integrity.”
Maintaining a visage of measured calm, Duncan returned, “Of course. Our professions—yours as an Inquisitor and mine as a collector and guardian of antiques—demand nothing short of unswerving honesty and a keen sense of responsibility.”
Honest Duncan…..
Honest is… a word to use. lol.
Thanks for the chapter!
Honesty is the best policy.
I simply would not be able to keep a straight face during any part of their conversation, not just the end. I can’t keep myself from chuckling at it out loud irl rn