The Cult (Cult 1)

There was an arrhythmia to my heartbeat, a drug-induced panic that took longer to dissipate than last time. He’d given me a bigger dose, or I was just weaker than before.

I couldn’t recall what happened.

There were flashes of demons on the ceiling. Maniacal laughter coming from beside me. The gates of hell opened, and I saw a sea of fire rush me. When I woke up, I was in my bed, still in my gown and wings.

Nothing looked out of place, and there were no signs that he’d forced himself on me.

The first thing I saw when I woke up was Claire’s sweet face.

It was a nice way to wake up.

It was ironic. These guys worshiped angels, and I thought they were crazy. But Claire had become my angel. She was the only light in this very dark place.

Claire spoke to her mom in their bedroom, the doors between us open. “Mom, can we go somewhere?”

Beatrice sat at the edge of the bed, and despite her physical recovery, her mental state was still in tatters. Whenever Claire spoke, Beatrice ignored her or didn’t register her voice at all. “Go somewhere?” A tone of incredulity was in her voice. She turned her head and stared at her daughter, her eyes mean. “Do you not understand—”

“I think that’s a good idea, Claire. How about you get dressed, and we’ll go exploring?” I needed to study the terrain of this place anyway.

“Really?” She got off the floor, wearing a white dress with her little wings. “Will you make the monsters go away?”

I’d forgotten about those freaks. Oh, how could I ever forget? “I’ll do my best.”

Claire went down the hallway into her closet, out of earshot.

I turned to Beatrice, her perfect cheekbones, her full lips, all mutilated like her back. Her beauty had been chipped away by her depression, her presence an empty vessel, like her soul had already passed beyond the veil and her body remained behind. “I’ll take Claire for the day so you can have some time to yourself.”

“Good.” Her arms were crossed over her chest, one shoulder dropped, her figure more svelte than ever before. Her eyes glossed over once more, and that was it. Beatrice was gone.

Claire returned, in white jeans and a white sweater, ready to go outside and explore the trees, hillsides, and the land.

It was the perfect excuse to take a look around unaccompanied. All I had to do was ask Forneus, and he would grant my request. “Alright, let’s go.” I took her hand. “Say bye to Mommy.”

“Bye, Mom.” Claire waved.

Beatrice ignored her.

We stepped out into the cold, the sky overcast, the chill biting through flesh to bone.

The Malevolent were there, moving closer, wanting to get a look at the two of us.

“Just look at the ground, Claire.”

“Are you going to get rid of them?”

“I will in a bit.” We moved to the stone steps and made our way up the hill, past the black stone church where I’d met Forneus before. The cabins loomed in the gray air, no activity noticeable. Farther up we went, making our way to the luxury cabins that seemed to house the demons. There were twelve.

And there were twelve of us.

At least we wouldn’t have to worry about another poor girl having to join us.

“Where are we going?” Claire whispered, her eyes still down.

I went to Forneus’s cabin and left her by the wall. “Just keep looking at the ground, okay? I need to talk to someone. I’ll be right here.” I didn’t want Claire to see him, to hear him speak with his weird speech pattern, because he was more frightening than the Malevolent in a lot of ways.

“How long will you be gone?”

“Just a couple minutes. I’ll be right back. I promise.”

She returned her gaze to the ground, her forehead against the wood of the cabin. “Okay…”

I went to the front door and knocked.

The Malevolent were all around me, gathered in a half circle, keeping a respectable distance away. I looked over my shoulder then gave a jerk, like I was about to lunge at them. Like a school of fish, they immediately dispersed, only to move back into place a couple seconds later.

Forneus opened the door, dressed all in black, this time wearing a long black coat that reached the tops of his boots. Eyes the texture of stone stared at me, intensive and direct, regarding me like a painting rather than a person just a foot away. He greeted me in silence.

“Tell the Malevolent to stop following me.”

His eyes shifted past me, to the men with skulls on their heads. “Why?”

“Because I want to take Claire to explore, and she’s afraid of them.”

“She shouldn’t be afraid—”

“I told you what I wanted, Forneus. Make them stop.”

Right on cue, that smile emerged. “Of course, An-gel.” He looked at the Malevolent and gave a subtle wave of his hand.