Older Ash stared down at the chainsaw in his hand, where faint dark-red lines still glowed across the metal after young Ash's Demonic Power enchantment. The shotgun slung over his shoulder carried the same subtle infernal sheen, making both weapons look far more dangerous than their ordinary versions. "Now that is cool," Ashley J. Williams said with obvious approval before stepping away from the rented sedan and following young Ash into the forest. The abandoned trail was barely visible beneath the weeds and brush, but neither man had any trouble recognizing the direction they needed to go.
Just as older Ash had promised, the cabin was not especially far from the road. After twenty or thirty minutes of pushing through dense trees, dead branches, and overgrown ground, the forest opened enough for the old structure to appear beneath the moonlight. The cabin looked half-rotten and forgotten, yet somehow remained standing after decades of rain, snow, wind, and complete neglect. Young Ash studied it for a moment and said, "I'll give this place credit. It's survived longer than most buildings would without maintenance."
Older Ash's attention had already shifted toward the crude grave outside the cabin. A simple cross made from branches still marked the spot where he had buried Linda after she became possessed, and the sight immediately pulled the humor from his face. Young Ash noticed the change and deliberately glanced back toward the cabin. "You could learn something from the construction, old man. After all these years, it's still holding itself together." Older Ash looked at him and snorted. "I'm holding together just fine."
"That depends on your definition of fine," young Ash replied as they walked toward the porch. Older Ash understood exactly what he was doing and let the stupid argument drag him away from the grave before the memories could settle too deeply. "I've survived demons, time travel, possession, losing a hand, and retail work," he said. "That makes me tougher than this dump." Young Ash nodded seriously. "Retail work probably was the worst one."
Inside, the cabin looked almost exactly like a place abandoned after a massacre should look. Dust covered the furniture, cobwebs stretched through the corners, old tables and chairs had warped with age, and the mounted deer head still hung on the wall like it had spent decades waiting for someone to return. Older Ash swept his flashlight across the room and muttered, "Last time I came here with a woman, I ended up fighting demons and cutting off my own hand. This time I come back with another guy. My life really took a weird turn."
Young Ash glanced toward him while checking the walls. "Try not to lose the other hand tonight." Older Ash immediately held his mechanical hand closer to his body. "That's not funny." Young Ash tried the light switch, but nothing happened. "No power?" he asked, and older Ash shook his head. "Never had regular power this far out. There's a generator outside."
They walked around the side of the cabin and found the ancient generator half-covered in leaves and dirt. Older Ash worked on it with surprising familiarity, and after several ugly rattles, coughs, and metallic groans, the machine finally started. Warm yellow light flickered through the cabin windows, making the place feel somehow more unsettling rather than safer. Young Ash stared at the generator and said, "What company built this thing? We should get them a federal contract if it still works after thirty years in the woods."
Older Ash barely heard him because the small shed beside the cabin had lit up too. For just a moment, he thought he heard a familiar woman's voice coming from inside, soft enough that it might have been memory and clear enough that he knew exactly who it sounded like. "Please, Ash, don't hurt me," Linda seemed to whisper. "You promised we'd always be together. I love you." Older Ash blinked hard, shook his head, and immediately said, "Forget the generator. Let's put the book in the cellar and get out of here."
Young Ash rejected the idea without hesitation. "We didn't come all this way just to bury an active Book of the Dead under the place where the original disaster happened. We search first." During the drive, older Ash had already explained that the book had originally been associated with Professor Raymond Knowby, an archaeologist and occult researcher who brought the Naturom Demonto to the cabin so he could study and translate it. If Knowby had learned enough to unleash Kandarian evil, there was at least a chance he had also recorded something about containing or destroying it.
There was another reason Ash refused to simply hide the book. He had already tested Hellfire reinforced by Demonic Power against the surviving volume, and the artifact had not reacted at all. The flames could burn bodies and souls, while his black energy could corrode powerful supernatural creatures, yet neither had left so much as a mark on the human-skin cover. That suggested the Book of the Dead had an extreme resistance to infernal power, which made sense if the Dark Ones had created it specifically to command demons rather than be vulnerable to them.
Older Ash reluctantly accepted the argument and handed the wrapped Book of the Dead over. "Fine. You hold onto this while I check the perimeter." Young Ash looked directly toward the shed, then back at the older man. "The perimeter." Older Ash nodded with exaggerated seriousness. "Exactly." Young Ash did not bother calling him out when he immediately headed toward the shed.
Ash turned back to the cabin and began searching alone. His supernatural perception made the place far more disturbing than it looked to normal eyes because demonic residue stained almost everything—the floorboards, the walls, the cellar entrance, the furniture, and even sections of the ceiling carried old Kandarian traces. If he focused completely on spiritual presence, the entire structure might as well have been glowing red. "This place is practically soaked in demonic residue," he muttered while opening another decayed cabinet.
Most of what he found was worthless: rotted papers, broken objects, old containers, and things that had long since been ruined by moisture and insects. Eventually, however, Ash uncovered a brittle notebook tucked among Professor Knowby's old materials. The first several pages confirmed what older Ash had already told him, describing the Naturom Demonto, translation attempts, Kandarian entities, and increasingly desperate observations written after Knowby realized exactly what he had disturbed. Then Ash reached an illustration that immediately caught his attention.
The weapon drawn on the page was a long, narrow dagger with a straight blade and a grotesquely shaped handle. Its hilt appeared to be carved from bone, while a skeletal hand seemed to curl around the grip and the pommel resembled the head of some twisted creature. Beside the illustration, Knowby had written a name: Kandarian Dagger. Ash leaned closer and began reading the surviving explanation.
According to Knowby's notes, the dagger carried magic specifically connected to Kandarian forces and could scorch, cut, or otherwise damage the human-skin pages of the Book of the Dead. More importantly, several rituals required the dagger as a central component, and the professor had recorded fragmented translations for at least two of them. One appeared to alter or transfer the book's supernatural ownership or binding, while another looked much more direct. Ash reread the final section twice before saying, "There you are."
The second ritual appeared capable of destroying the Book of the Dead completely. Simply stabbing or cutting the volume with the Kandarian Dagger could damage its pages, but full destruction required the weapon to be used as part of a specific ritual rather than as an ordinary blade. That immediately explained why Ash's Hellfire and Demonic Power had failed and why destroying the previous volume had required exhausting the blessing inside Edwin's greatsword. He carefully gathered Knowby's notebook and the loose pages tucked inside it, then slid everything into his coat.
Now he only needed to locate the dagger. Ash turned toward the cabin entrance, intending to ask older Ash whether he remembered seeing anything matching Knowby's illustration during the original incident. Before he could step outside, however, he heard voices coming from the direction of the shed. One voice belonged to older Ash, while the other was unmistakably female.
Inside the shed, Ashley J. Williams stood in front of a rusted bench vise and stared at the yellowed human skull still clamped between its jaws. Deep chainsaw grooves cut across the bone, exactly where he had once been forced to finish what remained of Linda after Kandarian possession refused to let her die normally. He stood there for several seconds before quietly saying, "Long time no see, Linda. Don't bother getting up. I'm just checking in, then I'm leaving."
Nothing moved at first, so older Ash forced a weak smile and turned toward the door. The wooden door slammed shut by itself before he reached it, and a faint clicking sound came from the bench vise behind him. Ash stopped immediately and closed his eyes. "No. Not doing this again."
Linda's voice came from behind him, soft and sweet exactly as he remembered it. "What are you talking about, Ash? I'm better now." Older Ash tightened his mechanical fist but refused to turn around. The skull clicked softly against the vise again as Linda whispered, "My dear... look at me."