The Holder of Exodus

In any rural town in Canada, walk up to any house and question the inhabitants about the boy who vanished. Next, go to another house. You will find it deteriorating and empty, with the exception of a picture of a small boy. Take the picture back to the house you were in previously, and it will now also be falling apart and deserted. In the house's largest room, that same boy will be sitting on a rocking chair.

This is the holder of Exodus. You could choose to ask him, or you could leave the building. Those who have asked have never returned. Ask him about the object he grips strongly in his hand. He will whisper but one word back at you: "ABORTION."

The moment he says this, your head will quickly and painfully burst into flames as it becomes a perfect sphere, the only evidence of its former appearance a grim, twisted, crude image of a visage that is pure ANGER. The only way to escape this, with the object, is to do your job.

Your ever-burning head is now object 491 out of 538. They must never come together.