Italy wasn't a necessary stop. I wasn't going to record anything here. I don't need anything here.
I needed to stop in England to talk with Annie to test my theories. I needed to stop in France to find the Haunt.
My next stop is Switzerland where I need to find the Grossmünster relics. After that, we stop in Germany. I don't need anything there.
After that is the Czech Republic, which now that I've made the deal with the Haunt, I'll have to release them in Prague.
After that, Australia and Thailand are some of the most important parts of the trip.
Oh, it's one of those Grossmünster relics you want me to possess, isn't it?
Stop that. I'm recording. This is important.
Yeah, and I live here now. If I'm going to have to listen to you ranting, I'm going to chime in from time to time.
Fine. Fair enough. Just try not to ruin my recordings. These are important.
Important, yes. You said, still refuse to ever mention why though. Interesting. Oh, and quick thing. I've done some improvement to your device here.
What? How?
Well, for starters, it should be less scratchy, so there's that. You might actually be able to hear yourself word for word.
Also, I'm going to start recording on demand so you don't miss out on anything.
Oh. Well, thank you. That's helpful. Why did you do that?
To know. Because I'm bored, and I could. Might as well get on board with your whole mission here.
I appreciate it.
Yeah, for sure, for sure. Um, on this topic, I did go back and listen to all your old recordings, and were you ever going to mention that you're being hunted by an anomaly?
Keep it down.
No! Because when it catches up with you and finishes the job, I'll be stranded. I do not want to become some two-bit haunted recorder for the rest of eternity!
You're going to be fine. We both are. I have a plan.
You do?
Yes. Which brings me back to my original point. I was never going to record anything in Italy. But the anomaly is here. I feel it even stronger than before.
But you have a plan.
Please, just let me record, okay? I need to record this journey, every detail that matters. It's-
Important, of course. Take it away.
I have a plan. It involves the Devil's Stone. Let me tell you the story of the Devil's Stone, also known as the Rock of the Demon in Rome.
Back in the 13th century, one night, St. Dominic visited the new church, the Santa Sabina. During his stay in Rome, he spent a lot of time at the Basilla.
He knelt down on the marble slab of the martyrs and began to pray. That was his routine. It was common and usual.
But that night, St. Dominic would experience something that he never had before, something he would fear for the rest of his life.
The church was empty. It was late, so that was to be expected. It was a beautiful, cloudless night. There was a cool breeze, but it was not cold. The church was silent.
The marble was cold to the touch as St. Dominic knelt down. He began his prayers, taking solace in the silent church.
As he prayed, the saint heard a voice. It was soft. In the back of his mind, he figured someone must have entered the church, even though he had not heard the door open.
Then, the voice got louder. He could not make out what it was saying, but he did not care. He prided himself on being a very focused person. He kept praying.
The voice went quiet. The saint added a silent thanks to his prayers, hoping whoever it was had either left or gone quiet as was expected.
Then, the voice spoke again, this time right into his ear. It startled him, but he did not open his eyes.
The voice was unnatural. It was grating, acidic. The saint did not stop his prayers. There was silence. St. Dominic was listening, but he steeled himself and kept praying.
Then, he heard the doors slam open. The sound echoed through the church, shattering the windows. The saint trembled as he felt glass fall into his hair.
He knew the owner of this voice. It was Satan, the devil himself, the temptation. And it was tempting, the urge to stop praying and look around to see whatever this creature looked like, to run or to scream.
But the saint kept praying. The wind howled as it rushed through the now open doors. A chill ran up the saint's back. He realized it was not the wind that touched him. It was the devil's claw.
He felt it trace up his spine and stop at the back of his neck. He was exposed. It would take such a small motion for this beast to end his life. But he did not stop his prayers. He did not open his eyes.
Not even when he felt a hot breath touch his face, hearing a snarl as the same voice came again.
The saint squeezed his eyes tighter shut, repeating his prayers louder. He would not fall to this beast's temptation, for he knew it would mean a terrible fate. But he was stuck, sitting here with the devil, unable to look at his foe. And he so wanted to look.
Fire. There was a fire. The wind was gone. He heard the crackling of flame. It was behind him. It was getting closer, getting bigger, hotter. He should open his eyes, see if he was in danger. He should leave.
He did not. The heat grew unbearable. He began screaming his prayers.
The saint still prayed. His eyelids shook, shivered, betrayed him. He had to look. He couldn't help it. Just let the smallest ray of light creep in. No, he squeezed them tighter still. He would not give in tonight.
Then his ears began to bleed. They bled, because the devil let out a roar. This roar shook the church, loosened the stones, cracked the floor. Saint Dominic braced himself with both hands on the marble below him, still shouting his prayers and still holding his eyes shut.
Silence. It was silent. The fire was gone. The rumbling was gone. The devil was gone.
The saint sighed in relief, still praying breathlessly. He could finally leave. It was over. He had won. Bested the beast, resisted temptation. Had he? Or was the devil waiting for him to feel safe?
The best temptation is the quiet, comforting safety. So the saint prayed more. He prayed for hours. It must have been hours. He had no way of knowing.
What happened next has some different iterations throughout time. What's most commonly thought of is that the devil, in his frustration, picked up a heavy block of black basalt from the roof of the church and hurled it at the saint.
He hurled it with such force that his claw marks left a dent in the stone. The devil didn't have the power to harm a saint on holy grounds, so the stone slammed into the saint and fell to the ground.
Saint Dominic continued his prayers, unharmed, but shaking violently. The saint was discovered the next morning, still praying and still refusing to open his eyes.
He did open them eventually, after being reassured by his peers that the devil was finally gone. The same stone now sits outside of the church, placed on a small spire.
There is a legend that if anyone touches the stone, they will become the devil's target. I need to touch that stone.
So, your plan to escape an anomaly is to draw the attention of the devil. Great, great idea.
The legend goes that the devil appears right there, at the church. It's more of an intimidation than an actual threat, an afterimage of the events that night.
But an afterimage of the devil is more than enough to scare away an anomaly. If it thinks I'm already marked for hunt by Satan himself, it will back off.
Dangerous. I'm in. When do we leave?
Tonight. 2am. When the church is empty.
Okay, here we are. There's nobody here.
What shape do you reckon the devil will take?
I don't know. But we only have to deal with it for a little bit. We touch the stone, then run.
Run? We're running? You're running?
What? I can run?
Yeah, sure, sure, sure, sure, sure.
Alright, I see it. It's right there.
I wonder how many people have touched this alone at night and gotten a terrible scare.
Like the one I'm about to get.
Okay, so we wait to see the first sign, and then we run. Or, I run.
Yeah, you run.
Here goes nothing.
Okay. I touched it.
I've waited for an hour. Nothing. The legend must have been false.
Well, cheer up. At least you don't have to encounter Satan.
Right. But I'll encounter the anomaly. And die.
Yeah, that sucks.
This is concerning. If it was false, that means I have no defense from the anomaly, and I'm back where I started.
If it wasn't, that means I need to be looking over my shoulder from now on for Satan.
But nothing's happened yet. It's been a few days. We're now in Switzerland.
Oh well. I'll just have to hope.
I know that's not a strategy, but I don't have one right now. Right now, I need to get those relics.
Finally, I can actually get started.
Alright.