The Cult

by Mink, Jason

  "Before you enter, please remove your clothing," Ashton said, standing next to a table in the corner. "The ritual calls for it." Ashton disrobed and the others followed suit. Though uncomfortable with this new development, Baxter felt there was little point in balking and did as he was asked.

  "Be mindful where you step, please, don't tread on the circle," Ashton said fussily. He then turned his attention to a long, shallow box the color of old bone. Pressing in on the sides there was a sharp click and the lid slid free. An unpleasant odor rose from the box, a loamy scent mixed with decay. Gingerly Ashton removed a sheaf of parchment. It flaked away as he did, dust fine as ash falling from its torn and curling edges. Carefully he set it on the tabletop.

  "What's this, Grandma Ashton's legendary brownie recipe?" Baxter asked, drawing close.

  Ashton put a hand up and smiled. "Brother, please. Your enthusiasm is appreciated, but your restraint is required. Please join the others."

  Baxter looked over at Adam, Erica and Chloe, who stood bunched in the room's southern corner. The diameter of the circle sure didn't leave much room to mingle. He led Annie to where the others stood and leaned back against the wall. "How you feelin', sport?" he asked Annie quietly. She smiled as if to reassure him but the shadow of apprehension had begun to darken her features. Being nude and clustered around a 'magic circle' with six other sweaty people probably wasn't what she'd expected out of her evening, which was odd, all things considered.

  "I'm good. Nervous, but good. These things always leave me so wiped out."

  "I can imagine."

  Annie looked at him curiously and Baxter turned away, unable to face her. This was wrong, he knew. They should not do what they were about to do. But how to stop it? It was clear now Annie was the bridge that made this all possible. Her gift was unique, her status as the most important player in the group unquestionable. Baxter knew Ashton would not let them leave - not after all they had seen; not after coming so far.

  Zak joined them, his expression unreadable. The music that now came through the speakers was much different than what they'd enjoyed at dinner. It was somber, restrained, tailored in some impossible way to that exact moment. Its ebb and flow seemed to mirror Ashton's movements, as he removed a number of objects from a jewel-encrusted case. Beyond ostentatious, it was clearly an artifact of some sort, a museum-quality piece Ashton treated with hushed reverence. Easing the lid of the chest closed he pushed it aside, the true treasure lying on the table before him.

  "Welcome, all. Before you lies revealed one of the manor's greatest secrets, the Circle of Summoning. Designed by Clautney Iris himself, this Circle is unquestionably the most powerful in all the world. It incorporates ancient sacred text, hidden truths and forbidden knowledge of Paq'q's benevolence. It is designed to focus our energies, collect them into a source of raw, usable power. Do not be alarmed by this. The circle will not steal your soul or suck your life-force. It simply absorbs latent potentiality released by the ingestion of the Paq'qa, the left-over detritus of the inspired mind. This energy can be stored or channeled, used to attain certain ends. It is… useful for the greater good."

  "And what would that be, Brother?" It was Zak who asked the question, his eyes searching Ashton's.

  "Why, to perpetuate the word, of course. To lay the way for Paq'q to reign in the new aeon." Ashton returned Zachary's gaze. "Such a question, Brother Pan. I would expect it from the others, but from you?"

  Zak shrugged. "I just like to know what I'm getting into, that's all. Here is this circle, another secret you've been keeping from us. We're just supposed to go along with this? You're saying Clautney Iris designed it?"

  Ashton licked his lips. "Clautney Iris used it." Ashton let this latest revelation sink in for a moment, then continued. “Some secrets are necessary, Brother Pan. This Circle is sacred, its power legendary. If certain people knew of its existence the manor would be under constant siege. It has taken unprecedented effort on my family's part to keep it hidden. It is only now that we have received the vision that the Circle can be revealed."

  "It is a great honor," Adam said, going to one knee. Ashton smiled.

  "And you have proven worthy of that honor. All of you. Rise, Fenris. Accept your destiny."

  Adam stood and Ashton handed him a long dagger, its blade wrapped in black fabric. The hilt was metal, dull and unpolished, plain with the exception of the small carven sigil of Paq'q. A rust-like substance had collected in the impression, stark against the dull silver of the handle.

  "Accept this blade, to use in His service."

  Adam took the dagger with him, walking carefully around the circle's perimeter.

  Ashton turned to Chloe. "Sister Zephyr, step forward. Take this scepter, that you may represent Him in His absence."

  Chloe reached forward, taking the oddly-shaped object in hand. The scepter was a little under a foot in length and as thick around as her wrist; it bowed slightly, wider at one end than the other. The object was lighter than she expected, formed from some unrecognizable material. Semi-opaque, when she held it to the light she could see the inside was actually shot through with pale, hair-thin filaments. It too was without adornment, save the now-familiar sigil inscribed in the blunted end. She swept it through the air experimentally, nearly hitting Zak.

  "Hey, swing that thing somewhere else."

  Without reply Chloe made her way around the circle as Adam had, standing with him on the other side of the room.

  "Sister Io, step forward."

  Annie hesitated for a moment, perhaps hoping someone would stop her. When no one did she stepped forward, stood before Ashton, and held out her hand.

  "Take this lamp, that you may ever shed His light and show us the Way." Ashton held out a small, cast-iron lantern. It appeared to be very old, though still in working condition. The metal had been polished, reflecting back the weird red light of the room and revealing tiny pits and irregularities in the surface. Obviously the object had been forged by hand, giving it an added air of antiquity. She hefted it with a bit of difficulty, its small size deceptive. The glass bell rattled slightly.

  "Brother Pan, come forward."

  Zak slid to his feet. He stepped up to Ashton, who was doing his best to look benevolent. The music seemed to underscore this, theremin angels singing in celestial chorus. It would have been absurd under other circumstances, but at the moment it was remarkably appropriate. Ashton reached out, placed a long slender object in Zak's hand. "Take this flute, that you may herald His coming and sound His tune."

  Zak rolled it between his fingers, finding the holes. He pursed his lips.

  "Don't blow it yet," Ashton said with infinite patience.

  Zak nodded and moved on.

  "Sister Astra. If you please."

  Erica slipped past Baxter and stood before Ashton smiling uncertainly.

  He lifted a sizeable stone chalice from the table, held it out with both hands. "Take this cup, that we may ever come to you for strength and succor, a Maid in His honor."

  Erica reached out, lifting the cup from Ashton's hands. While the stone itself was a dull colorless gray, the flickering candlelight reflected off of countless tiny globules embedded in its cratered surface. These flashed with weird and wondrous hues, startling colors that seemed in defiance of terrestrial nature.

  "Brother Helios."

  Baxter stepped forward. And there was a transcendence in this, a timeless connection to countless seekers down the aeons before him. They too had learned ancient secrets in locked rooms, were given magical names and instruments simply that they might unravel another thread in the Great Mystery. However he personally felt, Baxter understood what they did here was an act as old as time itself, doing what all intelligent life must do; go further.

  Ashton turned from him, to retrieve the second-to-last item still on the tabletop. He handed it over with a sense of reverence, his hands trembling slightly."Take this book, that you may write His story and preserve His word." Ashton offered Baxter a
small black volume.

  To Baxter's surprise the cover was not made of human flesh, nor did its contents appear to be written in blood. It looked to be a secretary's notebook from the nineteen forties, albeit a chic and expensive one. He flipped it open and recognized one of the symbols carved within the Inner Perimeter of the Circle. Wordlessly Baxter closed the book and joined the others. By now the corner had grown quite crowded; in spite of the sense of ritual and pageantry the group was growing restless, eager to move on.

  Ashton lifted a jagged circle of bone from the table. "With this crown I take His place upon the throne, that I may prepare the kingdom for His coming."

  If any in the group were surprised by this they did not show it.

  Ashton gestured to Chloe, who stepped forward. He picked up the sheaf of parchment in one hand and the ornate bowl-case in the other. He walked from the table, around the Circle to its opposite side. He gestured to a arrow-shaped sigil carved along the outer edge. "We enter the Circle this way, in the order you now stand." Ashton stepped in, mindful of the edge of the interior circle. He followed it nearly all the way around, stopping just to the left of the arrow-sigil, Chloe at his right hand. The others filed past him, entering the space as they'd been called: Adam, Annie, Zak, and Erica. Baxter was last, simply stepping into place within the outer circle, immediately before the arrow. To his surprise he was directly at Ashton's right, a position of prominence he did not understand.

  "And now we truly begin," Ashton said. "Sisters and brothers, we gather together a circle of seven strong, called by Paq'q from beyond the infinite Abyss. Yea, He is with us. The visions we have had are but the first of many, states of ecstasy and joy brought on by His nearness. Can you not feel His presence? Does it not inspire you, to sing and dance, to create art and music for Him? Does it not inflame you, stir you to make love and war in His name?"

  "Yes!" Adam shouted mechanically. His hands were balled into fists; a thin sheen of perspiration shone upon his pinched brow. Ashton continued. "He is with us, though He remains bound on the other side. Curse you, Ur! We curse you with our every breath! We cast you out, Maker of Chains! We spit in your eyes and shit on your Doctrine! We sentence you to the darkness you have confined our Master to, to the prison of Reason you yourself have built."

  Ashton closed his eyes and executed a series of bizarre gestures with his right hand, carving the air with mathematical precision. The energy in the room seemed to shift, amping upwards with a noticeable hum. Ashton opened his eyes and shuddered as if a current passed through him. Taking the circle of bone from his head he set it on the floor before him, directly upon the carved sigil. The others followed his example, placing their instruments as he had. There was an odd symmetry observed in this action, each object fitting into the corresponding sigil's design in a specific way. No one needed to be shown; they all simply knew. Adam's blade sat perfectly aligned within his shield-like symbol, pointing directly into the Inner Circle. Chloe's scepter and Zak's flute also pointed in that direction. Erica's cup and Annie's lantern each occupied squared-off spaces within their circular sigils. Baxter was the last to place his instrument, resting the book at the center of a nest of intersecting lines.

  "Paq'q is on the Other Side, but Paq'q is with us. He is in our minds, an idea without end, the Infinite One dwelling within. Let us know His graces, experience His glory; let us take His body and blood." Ashton went down on one knee, retrieving the now-familiar bowl from its place in the case. He cleared his throat and spoke quietly. "Please, try not to fall over."

  With that Ashton lit the bowl. Drawing deeply from it he passed it on to Baxter, who had expected it to travel in the other direction. He smoked as he was expected to, passing the bowl on to a reverential Erica. From there it quickly made the rounds, was repacked smoothly by a smiling Ashton each time it came his way. They felt its effects in short order, the Paq'qa's usual sensations heightened in a way no one could explain. As it came on Baxter heard himself laugh. Ashton need not have worried about him falling over; it felt as though his feet had been rooted to the spot. Annie, however, had begun to look very wobbly. Her knees seemed to want to betray her, twitching as if they might give at any moment. She reached out for support, found Adam's sturdy arm.

  "It's okay. You can hang on to me, Sister," he whispered. Grateful, she clung to him, as the room began to slowly rotate. So gradual that at first it was unnoticeable to all but Baxter, he watched as one by one they realized what was happening. But what was happening? Was the circle turning, or the room? Gradually the spinning increased, details of the outer walls becoming difficult to discern. While some in the circle looked alarmed by this Ashton retained his composure. He lifted the sheaf of parchment from its place beside his feet and began to read. His words were unrecognizable, a language long dead spoken by a tongue that could not possibly understand their meaning. Still, it was enough.

  A latticework of color and light began to form at the Inner Circle's center, an impossibly delicate thing that swayed and rippled in the air before them. Within it truths were revealed, mysteries exposed, answers to unspoken questions lying just inside its shifting boundaries. And all they had to do was accept it, accept Him. Annie reached out with her free hand, found Zak. He looked at his sister appreciatively, reaching out as she had. And so it went as, hand to hand, all in the circle were linked. They continued to accelerate, the spinning room now a blur of red and yellow light. Without discussion they accepted what lay within, were immediately flooded with an overwhelming sense of power and exhilaration. There was a rush, a dark charge that flashed through them, down through the floor and into the seven sigils. Each of their instruments pulsed with the same strange energy, connecting with a burst of current through the outer circle. With a sudden wrench everything stopped, sending the group toppling forward, either into or out of the circle.

  The spell broken, Ashton rose to his feet and smiled. "We have been sanctified." He plucked his crown from his space upon the sigil and placed it on his head. "Sisters. Brothers. Go from here. Go and take your fill of pleasure as you will, knowing that we have been blessed by He who comes by night. Our Circle is now charged, our instruments are now ready. Gather here again tomorrow at sundown, that we may continue our work." With that Ashton scooped up his scattered paraphernalia, took Chloe's arm and sauntered out of the circle.

  It was a room again, the parlor they had all been in so many times. Baxter picked up his book, stepped over to the side-bar and poured himself a tall scotch. It went down like fire, brought him back to the reality he'd so recently checked out of. Not that the effects of the Paq'qa had stopped; far from it. The world around him swirled, continued to ripple and shift, but the potent liquor helped him focus on the Now. Annie was beside him, her hands on his arm, back, her head tilted up to meet his.

  "Baxter. Let's go."

  Baxter noticed her lantern was now lit. Its small flame flickered bright, danced madly within the confines of the glass bell. Annie drew him forward and through the now-quiet room. Wordlessly she led him down the shadowed hallway, up the long winding stair to her waiting room. They fell together upon the bed, mouth on mouth, flesh on flesh, a union long awaited. But it was not to be.

  "What's wrong?" Annie asked after long, uncomfortable moments.

  Baxter blanched. "Nothing's wrong; this is just weird, that's all." He felt Annie's body go stiff against his.

  "What do you mean, weird?"

  Baxter struggled to recover. "No, not weird like that. Just… sudden. Kind of out of the blue, you know?"

  She did not seem to know, unmoving beneath his caress. "But you want me, right? This is what we've been waiting for. This is it. Come on."

  Baxter opened his mouth but nothing came. This was not how he'd expected it to be. "Just… just wait a second, all right?"

  But her hand was on him. She manipulated him as she had once before, but this time there was no response to her attentions. He remained unmoved, much to Annie's surprise. Baxter delicately pulled her
hand away, looking into her eyes. "Annie, this isn't you."

  She broke away from him, rolling to her feet. “You don't know who I am, Baxter. I'm ready. If you're not then I'll find someone who is." She left him then, slipping out into the hallway. The doorway never quite closed, allowed him to hear her footsteps as they padded down the hallway, bouncing down the steps and off into the silence. Baxter felt a pang of anguish, hated himself in that moment for his failing. After waiting all of this time how could he possibly fail?

  ~*~

  Adam could not have been more surprised.

  Annie found him in the hall polishing his dagger. Still nude, he seemed startled to see her and was genuinely shocked when she wrapped her hands around his waist and kissed him deeply. This being invitation enough, he lifted her in his arms and carried her quickly up the steps. Annie heard herself laughing, as she was swept along the narrow corridors and into his room. She felt herself hit the bed, felt Adam's hands running up and down her slender body. His touch was rough, urgent. A strange expression was on his face, an intensity out of step with the music she felt in tune with.

  Adam guided her to his already-rising penis, so Annie wrapped her hand around him and squeezed. She pumped his swelling shaft slowly, felt herself directed downwards. Gamely Annie licked her lips, placed the head in her mouth. Experimentally she bobbed up and down his shaft, the experience new to her. She felt him pressing at the back of her throat and she resisted the urge to gag, catching breaths when she could. After only a few moments of this he stopped her.