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In the dark of night the Sin-Eaters decided to pay Father Prost a visit in jail. Visitation was prohibited at that hour but, thanks to Percy’s wheelchair stunts (a feat so inexplicably glorious that this Storyteller would not dare try give it description), they gained entry to the police station without faculty knowing. Prost’s jailers molested him to the point of death. He was mending, cowering behind bars when the children showed. The demon that occupied him earlier was gone. There was no assurance that Prost would have done anything different over the past few days had he not been possessed; these orphans were determined to make sure that Prost would never be a danger to anyone again. George’s geist reached out to Prost’s mind and stirred it insane. Ever a man of worship, Prost immediately got to his knees and gave praise to an imaginary god emanating from his waste bucket. Whenever Georgie asked Prost a question, he answered to the stink and its flies. The deception worked, but did little to make the kids feel better about their situation; Prost revealed the nature of his iniquities and his dark master, and that others at the orphanage were like-minded. More people would die. Bars made from any metal did not matter to death. Prost was crippled mentally and, by the look of him, physically; still, the Krewe wouldn’t risk more children being killed. Percy worked his magic and in the shape of his geist finished the work police had started. Hours later police started an investigation to determine the (identity as well as) cause of the human pulp left in Prost’s cell.

Anna arranged for an officer to drive the boys back to the orphanage in the morning. She gave them some instructions, good luck, and Prost’s keys. As a continuation of their (arguably) good fortune, Mother Escherwhim greeted them in the yard when they arrived. Kindness and forgiveness in excess was the only way she handled the world. She took the orphans back in without question, the tone in which she did loving as always. If she knew they were there to expose her administration, she would not have tried to stop them. She would give them the same smile she did when she left them alone at the orphanage.

Anna had given them several objectives, a scavenger hunt that she hoped would keep the kids out of sight from evildoers. Unfortunately for the Sin-Eaters, she needed them to stay put until they could testify in court and the orphanage was the best option. Anna underestimated them. She was certain the only way to keep them where she reach them at any time was to give them a list of treasures that she knew didn’t exist. Medical files on orphans that had gone missing had to have been ash in the wind years ago. If not, if said evidence was still there, it would be the smoking gun that would put Dr. Dmikov down.

The kids started with what they knew; many secrets were stored in the basement. The largest area with most of the storage didn’t seem to hide any clues. They advanced through a set of double doors guided by the torch left over from Teddy – to the right there were three doors and at the end of the hallway was another door.

At the end of the hall, the door was different in every way from the others down to the emotion. It appeared mundane enough, but Sin-Eaters knew a gate to the underworld when they saw one. A portal to the land of the dead is a puncture in reality that is not different enough from a black hole. It would consume everything around it. Its presence beneath the compound could answer for some of the nefarious goings-on but it posed greater concerns.

Entering the first door on the right they uncovered the furnace turned living space. Nothing incriminating was found among the janitors effects. Next, they found heaps of boxed files that were eroding behind the second door. The third room was locked off from the hallway and another access point in the middle room; they could sense mysteries within. The room-to-room entrance was unlocked. Instead, it was blocked by something big on the inaccessible side, the door would only open by mere inches. Georgie managed his scrawny frame through the gap and into the darkness of the next room. With Teddy’s torch in hand, he surveyed the room and saw why it was secured. Corpses were propped up in recliners and couches that were arranged in a big circle.

Georgie crashed a party for which he wasn’t properly dressed. Every other body in the room was in professional attire, looking good enough for any work place, even a doctor’s office or hospital.

Percy was next door looking through the files that were still in readable condition. Among them were a few significant items. Some records belonging to patients that matched the descriptions of the missing orphans but a lot of information on these forms had been inked over in black – including names. Still, he was excited to return to Anna with results. Before he could rummage for more, a sudden sound alerted the young investigators and they found places to hide. Someone else was making noise in the hallway.

Percy ducked behind a recliner, hoping the steps near the door didn’t belong to someone with keys. That was when he realized he wasn’t alone. Crouching next to him, making his hair stand straight, was a ghost; he appeared similar one of the party-goers (much less rotten). Perhaps best-dressed among the deceased attendees was a tall man in a three-piece suit, the tie was a red fabric that shimmered away the pale light of the torch, behind a long, white coat. Percy got a good look at the ghost’s face before getting an eyeful of it’s death-wound: a neat smile had been cut into his throat, bloodfall had colored his white coat dark red. A white name tag on his breast stood out, emboldened by the gore: it read Dr. V Dmikov. Percy choked down a scream and squeezed out the side. Before he disappeared he looked back for the cadaver that matched the ghost. Time had shriveled Dmikov’s body into a blackish, leathery stick-person, but the lab coat (now yellow) was recognizable, as was the name tag. A coroner can so much as look at a dead body to make a number of educated guess about how it got that way. A Sin-Eater, on the other hand, could ascertain much more in just a glance: the body labeled Dmikov was marked right. The truth sat looking back at him – Dmikov had been dead for a very long time.

Who, then, was the doctor that met with Prost at the bar?

The Sin-Eaters bolted out of hiding into the storage room, locking the double doors behind them. Whoever was after them would have to wait in darkness till someone, likely the janitor, would let them out. Rattled, yet safe from harm, they decided their was still time in their day to get into more trouble.