The canoes gently sailed into their respective dock and swayed from side to side as Thaddeus tied each of them to their post.

William couldn't remember seeing cultists appear from the thick night, but suddenly, he saw them approaching. Three of them, each walking in single file to the canoe, each holding a torch. Once they reached the dock, Thaddeus gestured for the other cultists to leave their canoes and follow him. He took a torch from one of his subjects and led them to the manor.

Thick moss claimed the siding and covered the entire wall facing the swamp. The moss had spread across most of the manor, and vines snaked around the entire building. William felt as though his heart was going to burst.

As his eyes shifted from cultist to cultist, manor siding to moss, and window to window, he swallowed a heavy knot in his throat. The windows of the manor were tall; square at the bottom and egg shaped at the top.

An orange glow passed through the windows, and the rooms inside the manor seemed dark. Cultists he could barely see milled about inside before leaving the manor in a single file line, each of them lifting a torch, igniting it, and then carrying it as they met with Thaddeus.

William thought about fleeing into the forest but knew that he was in the middle of the swamp at night. He accepted that for right now he must at least just play along. Thaddeus nodded at each robed figure as they approached him.

A column of torches led past the manor and toward the chapel. Old and constructed with wood and painted white. The siding had now become green and covered in vines. Sheets of moss dangled beside the chapel, concealing its roof and the area around it.

At its base were rose-colored flowers that consisted of seven petals, and they were attached to thick pink roots. The flowers did not sprout very high and bunched up like grapes on a vine and gave a sweet aroma.

Thaddeus led William toward the chapel, and a whitish-gold glow passed through stained windows. The doors were heavy and made of thick cedar wood. Once they passed through the threshold of the chapel, fourteen cultists stood near an altar, and something sat on top of it. William couldn't tell what it was from the chapel doorway.

They stood beside each other, flanking outward from a figure that sat at the center of them all, hunched over, and brown. Its hair draped low, and it seemed to focus on the floor. The scent of rot and taste of decay pervaded William's senses.

Torches and candles dimly lit the interior of the chapel, revealing two rows of pews, and an organ behind the altar in which the brown, decaying figure sat.

Thaddeus walked down between the pews, toward the figure sitting atop the altar. He spread his arms and embraced it before turning around and inviting William to join him.

He said, "you are safe here, friend. Come, come." The cultists which were behind him closed the door, and his heart sank as he heard it lock. William exhaled a deep breath and scanned the room. Thaddeus and fourteen cultists were ahead of him, seven on each side of the altar. Six cultists were behind him — now inching closer.

A tender voice whispered, "go, or they'll kill you." He second guessed whether he heard it or not, because the voice was so faint. He lowered his chin and approached the source of the odor. The putrid smell intensified as he closed the distance between him and the thing sitting on the altar. Once he arrived, William's jaw fell agape as he realized it was a mummy dressed in a robe sitting on top of the altar.

Thaddeus said, "here, you stand before the father of this church, Syn. His physical body: preserved for generations, remains, and it is as glorious today as it was then. I request that you drop to your knees and make your appeal to join the church so that you, too, may join him in the Dark Well."

William looked at Thaddeus, who was now beaming, and then glanced at the other cultists who were still concealed by their hooded robes. He began to formulate a plan to escape in the morning: run away into the swamp.

The cultists encircled him, and they stood side by side. Their robes draped to the floor, and not a face could be seen, however, the black hair of one cultist fell from their hood. He took a mental note of this and wondered if the hair belonged to the girl who cleaned off the table.

She was shorter than he was, perhaps up to his chin, and was slender. He looked away from her and returned his attention to Syn. For the sake of his own life, he knew he had to play along with their charade.

William dropped to one knee and looked at Syn's decaying toes. He said, "followers of Syn. I am grateful for your hospitality, and the second chance you've given me in life. I hereby request that you accept me into your family."

Thaddeus placed his hand on William's shoulder and squeezed it. He said, "make your pact with blood, and spread it across your god's face." He withdrew a small blade from his robe and placed it in William's hand.

William turned the blade over and counted the number of people in the chapel. Thaddeus, one, seven cultists on each side of Thaddeus, fifteen, and six behind him, twenty-one people surrounding him. He knew he couldn't fight these people off.

Reluctantly, his fingers wrapped tight around the blade, and he pulled it down. Blood dripped down the blade as he reached for Syn's mummified face.

He closed his eyes as he rubbed his palm on Syn's cheek and felt his grotesque cheekbone against his fingertips. Once the gesture had been completed, Thaddeus clapped and pulled William a few steps backward.

Thaddeus said, "you are now bound by blood to the Church of Syn. I ask that everyone reveal themselves to our newest brother, and welcome William into our family." William turned around and saw twenty people smiling.

He returned his focus to where he thought the girl was but saw a short bald man clapping. She had moved, and now, he had no idea who or where she was. There were four women, none of which had black hair.

Together and all at once, they said, "welcome, Brother William." William waved as his eyes darted for the exit. 

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