Action Stations.

How would they catch, " The Demon " ? Heard, so symbolically, regularly. To, assess the " state, of play " at the unique provincial institution. Missing adherence to " bona-fide " practices. Because, of what could come.
His onslaught on the senses had reigned for months. In their deflammatory fears rang the " chimes, of doom " ! Though, he did not envisage, " the scales," to lubricate weighing of souls, there. As nowhere away from the point could. He brought a lot on himself. His ways were startling, and, far removed from gratifying. As he transcended boundaries, and, borders. His appreciation of life was not as it should be. Considering, his " title, " that is. When he threw himself into his " work " he dealt a hefty blow to credibility, related to the " business " ! And all that entailed. His notional " fancies " scaring many, half-to-death. If not further. Into the reaches of " The Mouth Of Madness. " It, was not only him, who frankly " gauled, " but his selection process of target, away from the public interest obviously.
He knew, the craft, but developed his own brand of setting everything ablaze, beyond flames of passion. Clearly. His outlook was one of mere " directive " intrusion into the psychological profiles of anyone, who dared question his integrity. Or, method. Or, even his professional nature. Through years of entry into the dark recesses of the known, or, unknown " habitat. " His precise disintegration of spirit bearing testimony, and testament, to his elaborate techniques. To first unsettle, then demoralize, beyond belief. Some inferred that he might have actually " up-ended " some, or actually finished them off. After torture. Debates raged over the effects, of him.
His place in history was now assured. Due to his lack of regard for human decency. Those seeking to attack him, wished whole-heartedly, for a resolution to his " terror campaign, " with a quick fix. Born of hatred, as much as anything else. Like, the deepest reflection ! On what can go on, in the midnight hour, and, what cannot. In their prejudicial view of his " labours " bonds were formed, as well as groupings, against a vile stench, termed a " smell, of fears, " created from the mystical, spell-binding, abhorrent,  pungent aroma, of harmful transgression. Before, the facts. Thus, he was castigated, and, vilified. Rather, than ever considered worthy of position. Anywhere. But, especially at this timely juncture, in lieu of locational factors, blended, to maximize public interest. Rationalizing, what the divisive mindset is capable of.
It, was a regular occurrence for him to be ignored. Particularly, at community events, where he was condemned as a " social outcast, " perhaps as though carrying some irritating condition, passed, on contact. The tables would have to be turned, in his favour, for history books to be kind to him. And, his projected influence over values, and principles, overthrown. They, were. Miraculously. One fateful night, beyond worldly designs, when the " Pirates " made their presence felt. And, folklore was created. Everybody died, there ! To blessed relief, probably. As the " cut of the knife, " to the unsuspecting, dispelled all concerns, entirely. Forever.
Out of " The Fog Of War " ghostly service was paid to what matters most. The " witching hour, " then, becoming much more than was perceived possible. The hearts and minds won over by a frantic burst of aggressive soundings, to release the " Phantom " liberty bells, of justice, and, light, upon the masses. Once, dawning of a fresh " journey," was truly understood. With " real artistic licence " finally paying traditional homage to infamous activities, which define diversity. Of culture, as much as anything else.  You, do seem to get what you ask for.

See, " The Fog " ! Or, through it, if you dare.