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DAHLIA
When I woke, grogginess fogged my head, my mind fuzzy and unfocused. Heavy weight pressed on my face, fabric almost suffocating me. Pushing it away, I coughed and took a deep breath. Dirt. That was the first thing I noticed. The sharp earthy smell of dirt. My mind still had one foot in sleep and one in wakefulness. I opened my eyes, squinting at the sunlight to find I’d been sleeping in a hole. An honest to god hole in the fucking ground.
"What the hell?" I muttered and sat up.
The hole was deep, at least four feet. In the sitting position, I still couldn’t see over the edge. Once I’d rolled over and sat on my knees, I could get my head over the edge. My blood froze when I laid eyes on what was awaiting me. The chapel. It loomed above me, menacing and monolithic.
Panicking, I glanced around to find another surprise was waiting for me. Like the hole I found myself in, this hadn’t been here the last time I’d ventured near the chapel either. A tombstone sat above me, perched on the edge of the hole. The grave. Leaning closer, the engraving became clear. My name chiseled into the granite, along with my date of birth and another random date I didn’t recognize. Was that today’s date perhaps? I’d lost track of time being here. If the forest wasn’t swelteringly hot and green, I could have been tricked into believing it was any season at all.
Sounds came from around me. Stirring sounds of bodies rolling over, murmurs, and coughs. Standing, I found four more graves and tombstones sitting in a row beside mine. The others were out here too. Elise was the next to sit up and glance around.
"What is this?" she asked and clawed her way up and out of the grave. When she spotted me, she flinched, probably thinking I was someone else with my black heavy robes. "What’s happening?"
"I don’t know," I said.
From around us, the others woke and climbed out of their own holes. Payton, Bri, and Drake, all looked bewildered and confused. It was a strange sensation going to sleep in one place and waking up in a completely different spot. It screwed with your mind.
Drake stared at his own gravestone with a look of shock and horror. He turned to look at me. "Is yours the same?"
"Yeah. Name, birthday, and another date—"
Before I could continue, the heavy and deafening sound of a church bell ripped through the morning. The bell sat only a few feet above our heads. The sound echoed out abrasively loud. We clutched our ears to block it out. The bell sounded seven times then stopped. A moment later, our bracelets sent a minor warning shock. A message:
Inside. Now.
Short and to the point. Being the first to wake up, a strange need to be the first one to step inside overtook me. After my first few steps toward the building, the others fell in line behind me. As I took the steps up to the door, I remembered the last time I’d been here. Slaughtering Mr. Cartwright. Would he still be here? A chopped up body, dark dried blood, flies buzzing? Regardless, I had to go inside. There was no stopping it. I pushed the door open and was surprised to see the chapel as clean as it had ever been. All the blood had been removed, the body too. Through the shadows, the wooden floors gleamed, having been scrubbed and possibly sanded, removing all sign of what had happened. If you didn’t realize what had happened, you’d have never known it.
The room was dark and foreboding. The windows had shades pulled down, and between those and the foliage outside, the interior would have been dark save for a row of candles along each wall. On the wall beyond the podium where I’d killed Cartwright and fucked Drake, a huge crucifix had been hung, but had been turned upside down. An image that had always been used on movies and TV shows as a Satanic image. Sam was more than likely not some crazy cult member. This was a show. Nothing more. Even then, knowing that, a chill still ran up my spine as we walked toward the front of the church.
"Oh shit." Payton hissed and pointed
A shadowing figure sat behind the dais, hunched and robed, a hood thrown over his head to hide his face. How the hell had Payton seen him. The guy looked like he was part of the shadows themselves. Until he stood that was. He rose until he towered over us from the elevated stage.
Hidden speakers began to play some sort of music. It sounded like rhythmic chanting in some strange language. Latin maybe? The theatrics should have pissed me off, but they were doing their job, terror flooded through me. If fear had been the purpose, then Sam had done a damn good job.
"Lo, the dark Lord does call to his maggot children. Filth that wallow in squalor and do his bidding, and turn from his guidance." The hooded figure intoned in a deep monotone. Then in a regular voice whispered, "Be seated."
None of us wanted to question him, instead we plopped down on the pews directly in front of him. Obedient as children. All we could do was watch this strange nightmare come to life. Part of me wondered if I wasn’t still asleep in my bed. Was this all a dream?
"In the days of Sodom," the figure went on, back in the deep monotone. "The people were wretched and needed punishment. The Lord of the cosmos did nothing but turn the city to ashes and salt. That is not punishment. The Lord of the Darkness understood punishment. One cannot be cleansed until true pain, full torment has been given. The true Lord hates forgiveness. He stood on his mountain top and watched with disgust and fervent hate as forgiveness, love, and mercy became ingrained in society. He grew disdainful that humanity would ever rise to their true place as the ruler of the Earth. One can not rule if one can not punish.
"The Lord saw there were those who had been broken, and devastated. He saw that they needed an outlet. A true calling. All that was required was a push. The spark that would alight and become a self fulfilling inferno. He built an enclave, a redoubt where his disciples could be instructed and taught the ways of punishment."
As the weird sermon went on, I cast a glance at the others. Each of them stared at the man in horrified fascination.
"They would learn to cleanse the world. The Lord of Light punishes in an instant, but that is not what is required for true redemption. The disciples of the Lord of Darkness will quench the raging fire of sin with pain. Blood, screams, and tears, these are what must be spilled before true vengeance has been visited upon a monster.
"These disciples have turned from the teachings of the Lord. They were brought to a perfect community, like the Eden of old. They were given all they might need: food, work, relaxation, and entertainment. All that was required was acquiescence and an open mind. But, like Adam and Eve, they chose disobedience. They have made choices that undermine the goals of this place. They attempt to flee, they turn from the path, they even engage in deception. The Lord has limited patience. If his disciples are not willing to follow the teachings, and bow their heads in supplication then they will surely die. Not only will they die, but they will die a most hideous and painful death."
He raised his hands above his head, and I flinched, thinking he would throw something at us. The chanting music from the speakers grew louder. The robed man turned and picked up a large silver tray. He sat it atop the podium and swept a hand over the top of it.
"In order to cleanse yourselves of your sins and continue living, a communion must be performed. A physical show of spiritual obedience. Come, Bri, you shall be first."
Bri jerked in her seat, surprised by her name. "Uh, okay," she whispered and stood.
I couldn’t pull my eyes from her as she stepped up to the dias. Her legs trembled as she went, and if I had to guess she was screaming at herself not to turn and run. For all we knew there were other men out in the forest ready to shoot us dead if we ran. Nothing would surprise me at this moment.
The hooded figure gestured to a set of very small pewter cups and a plate with something piled on it. "The flesh of the damned, and the seed of the Lord. Consume and remember his benevolence."
