Devil's Whisper Chapter 87: Unseen and Unheard

"No, the founders of the cult never required members to submit photos. While each member filled out an admission form and provided details about themselves, they were never asked for photographs."

Albert clarified, his voice low and steady. The weathered folder beneath his hands seemed to pulse with significance despite its incomplete contents, each page representing a potential victim or predator in their unfolding investigation.

"The reason is that the cult practices many things that are against the law, so the leader of the cult wants the identities of their members to remain hidden in society," he added, rubbing his fingers together as he recalled the dark things he had learned about the Pathway of Ascendants.

Jira's brows furrowed as she absorbed this information. The Pathway of Ascendants had always been a secretive, dangerous group, and now it seemed they had taken every precaution to keep their members' identities concealed.

"Have you attempted to trace the missing member using the details from his admission form?"

Albert exhaled slowly, his frustration clear. "As I mentioned earlier, the missing member provided fake details about himself. For instance, he listed his name as Lowan Box on the admission form. But when I checked, there wasn't a single person in Australia registered with that name in the government's identity card system." He recounted, leaning back in his chair as he absorbed the weight of the situation. "There were a few individuals named Lowan with different surnames, but none of them matched the details provided by Lowan Box on the admission form. When I inquired with other members about Lowan Box, they informed me that nearly a year ago, he stopped attending cult meetings and hasn't been seen since."

The tension in the room grew thicker as the members of The Watchers exchanged glances. They knew that the stakes were higher than ever, and every missing piece of information was crucial.

Maya's fingers stilled on her copper ring, her breath held as she absorbed the implications. Rose's weathered face had become a mask of concern, while the tall, dark-haired man's posture had shifted to one of heightened alertness, his military training evident in the way he assessed each new piece of information with tactical precision.

"Now, you must all be wondering why I went to such lengths to find Lowan Box in the national identity card system. The reason is, that the member of the cult whom I assisted in leaving Australia with his family confided in me that, before his disappearance, Lowan approached the cult's manager and requested the list of members who had departed from the Pathway of Ascendants. These individuals either found the cult's rituals barbaric or had objections to Satanism," Albert explained, his voice now filled with conviction.

"This instantly struck me as highly suspicious. It suggested that Lowan Box may be our killer—the one targeting former members of the cult who left due to their objections to the teachings and rituals of Satanism," he continued, eyes scanning the room, meeting each member's gaze in turn.

Jim's face hardened as the realization set in. "Are you suggesting that Lowan Box is targeting ex-members of the cult who not only departed due to their disagreement with Satanism but also openly condemned it later on?" he asked, his voice tight with disbelief.

"Yes, that's exactly what I believe," Albert confirmed, his voice steady despite the gravity of the situation.

Jira stood still for a moment, his eyes narrowing as he processed the information. The wooden beads on his wristband caught the dim light as he clenched his fists, ancient symbols of protection facing a threat they had never anticipated. His pendant swung slightly with the movement, the carved totemic figures seeming almost alive in the flickering shadows cast by their small fire.

"I agree," he finally said, his voice ice-cold. "Lowan Box could indeed be the killer who possessed the Rubaiyat and is targeting individuals who oppose Satanism. It's apparent that his allegiance to Satan is distorting the messages of the Rubaiyat and driving him to commit these murders."

"But the issue is, Lowan Box is an alias," Albert added, a hint of frustration creeping into his tone. "We don't know his true identity or where he's hiding in Adelaide."

Jira's gaze sharpened. "Albert, utilize your resources and assign the task to all Watchers to locate Lowan Box and uncover his true identity," he instructed firmly, his voice brokering no argument. "We need to find him before he strikes again." His voice carried the weight of generations of Watchers who had stood vigilant against darkness.

Then, he paused, thinking for a moment.

"Have you requested assistance from your source within the Pathway of Ascendants cult to create a sketch of Lowan Box?"

"I've already taken this step," Albert said, his hand reaching into his jacket pocket. "But I'm not convinced that the sketch will lead us to him." With that, he pulled out a piece of paper and unfolded it. He placed it on the table for the group to examine. The paper crackled in the silence, its sound merging with the steady drip of water and the soft crackle of their fire.

Jira leaned forward, scrutinizing the image.

The sketch depicted a man with a large beard and mustache that obscured much of his face. His long, curly hair cascaded around his face, further concealing his features and making him nearly unrecognizable. The drawing seemed to resist revelation, the pencil lines creating a face designed to hide rather than reveal – a visual echo of the man's deliberate evasion of identity.

"The cult member who provided me with all the information and assisted in creating this sketch mentioned that Lowan Box had a reserved and serious demeanor. He preferred to keep to himself and rarely opened up to other members. His prominent beard, mustache, and long hair were deliberate choices, always serving to conceal his true face," Albert explained, his voice calm but tinged with concern.

Jira nodded slowly, his mind working through the possibilities. He knew that finding Lowan Box would not be easy, especially given how calculated and secretive the man seemed to be. The pendant at his throat seemed heavier now, the weight of responsibility pressing down on him as leader of the Watchers in this crucial moment.

"Duplicate the sketch and distribute copies to all members. We must locate this man," he ordered. His voice carried the unmistakable tone of command. "Even if he has altered his appearance by shaving his beard and mustache, his facial features will remain consistent. Recognizing him won't be easy, but this vague image will serve as our starting point in tracking him down."

After a pausem all members of The Watchers declared in unison, their voices filled with resolve.

"We will find him."

"The meeting is adjourned. Take the sketch and spread out in Adelaide to locate this man," Jira announced as he stood and motioned for the group to disperse. The ancient wooden chair creaked as he rose.

Exiting the building with Jim by his side, Jira headed toward his car. The rain had slowed to a gentle mist, clinging to their clothing and hair as they walked through the darkened streets.

As they walked, Jim spoke, his voice low but insistent. "Jira, as our leader, it's your responsibility to guide us in the right direction and consider everyone's input. Right now, every member of The Watchers believes that collaborating with the police and Kate Miller to apprehend the killer is the best course of action. Once we retrieve the Rubaiyat, the cycle of deaths will cease automatically."

Jira stopped walking, turning to face Jim. His words cut deep, but he wasn't wrong.

"Jim," he said, his voice a low rumble, "I've never trusted the police or the media, and I won't start now. I need to make my own decisions. We've always acted independently for a reason." The mist swirled around them, catching the distant streetlights in a halo effect that seemed to isolate them in their own bubble of tension and decision.

Jim didn't back down. "My friend, I can't help but feel that your stubbornness is distancing you from the essence of the Rubaiyat. You're letting your ego cloud your judgment, losing sight of what truly matters… Instead of dwelling on past grievances, why not focus on the present challenges? The Rubaiyat isn't about pride. It's about knowledge. It's about protecting innocent lives."

Jira listened attentively to Jim's words, though his face remained stoic. He didn't respond immediately, instead gazing out at the darkened streets. Jim's words lingered in his mind like a weight, but he didn't know if he was ready to face the truth they held. The pendant at his throat seemed heavier than ever, the carved symbols pressing against his skin like questions demanding answers.

"Consider my perspective," Jim urged before starting the car.