Mulcahy would back away, but two issues: first, he’d bump back up against Powell’s corpse. Second, he’d show fear.

It’s just Theodore. He knows and likes the man, and yet—and yet something feels so deeply wrong. Obviously there’s the inexplicable presence of Powell and these imps and the church and the fire, but there’s—there’s horrible and impossible such that either he’s been beset by devils or he’s dreaming… and then there’s another underlayer, a mysterious off-ness that he doesn’t understand. And he can’t stand it.

“Because what he wants is denying himself his peace,” Mulcahy tries sternly. “And no man should have to suffer forever like that. How are you here?”