ᴡᴏʀꜱʜɪᴘ ᴍᴇ (ᴇᴊ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

prologue

* This is not meant to be a religious story, this is about a fictional cult survivor. Any similarities to actual religions are coincidental and do not intentionally reflect real religion. My knowledge on cults is based on EJ's origin story as well as several documentaries and movies. Not everything within this story is accurate. *

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!TRIGGER WARNINGS!

Profanity

Violence

Death

Gore

Cults

Rituals

Themes of depression

Do not proceed if these themes will disturb you

Do not replicate acts done within the book. Keep yourself safe.

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!GENERAL INFO!

-Y/N is gender neutral. Y/N is 19 and Jack is 20-

The information about cults in this story may not be accurate. This story is fiction, Jack's backstory is based off the original cult story but with some changes in order to fit the plot.

Updates will be once every two weeks or so. Sometimes more, sometimes less depending on what I get done.

The cover art was made by me, the chapter pictures were not.

~I hope you enjoy the story~

An even tone filled the air, fifty people hummed all at once circling an altar with fire. Outstretched in everyone's hand was a lit torch that flickered in the night's breeze. Your torch was shaking, as was your hand at its base.

You were horrified and a heavy, gut-wrenching feeling churned in your stomach. Everything here was wrong. The people in robes, the hot tar in a bucket, the way no one cared about the screaming man strapped to a stone table. Everything. Yet it was too late to back out now. You had wanted so badly for this to be the right thing to do, for this ritual to grant everyone a path to paradise. But now you weren't so sure.

Your eyes stung from both the heat and the way you refused to tear your eyes off of the man and the six people who surrounded him. Father Gray, Father Stoll, and Father Krul with Jenny, Isaac, and Elle behind them. The six made up the committee. They led the cult of Chernobog to this point, they offered paradise to their followers so long as they remained devoted to their god. It was a deal not many refused, including you.

You desperately wanted that slice of paradise. You wanted peace, you wanted to belong, and you thought only they could offer you that. You believed in them, in their lord. With how much passion they spoke of him and his great powers there was no doubt in your mind. Or at least there hadn't been until this night. The night of the ritual that would bring Chernobog down to everyone. No one but the committee knew what the ritual entailed other than that it required a vessel. A living vessel. You were scared, but looking around revealed not one ounce of uncertainty in anyone's features. Everyone believed so strongly in this sacrifice, so much so that it comforted you. That feeling didn't last for long.

"PLEASE!" The man cried out, thrashing against the ropes that dug into his limbs, "Please don't do this! Let me go!" He pleaded and pleaded but no one moved to help, no one even flinched. Your hand never stopped shaking.

The wind seemed to pick up, now whistling as the clouds above spread allowing moonlight to flood the ground of the clearing. The shadows seemed to dance beneath the swaying trees, daring the light to snuff them out. The air was thick with anticipation.

Father Gray raised his arms and at once the humming ceased. "My children! Tonight we give to our lord a Vessel!" A proud grin stretched across his wrinkled features as he spoke, muffling the mans begging. "Raise your torches and bear witness to this miracle!" He ordered, stepping to the side to allow Jenny, Isaac, and Elle to move forward with the bucket of steaming tar.

Father Gray leaned his head back and gazed up at the moon. "Chernobog, my lord! Take this vessel and attach yourself to our filthy world!" He breathed in deeply, "Cleanse our earthly selves and lead us to paradise! Become one with man and walk among us!"

Father Gray gasped, his eyes seeming white with the light of the moon overhead. Together the committee chanted, "Chernobog come down! Chernobog come down! Chernobog come down!"

With the final word the bucket of tar came down, pouring into the man's left eye. The noise that left his throat was earsplitting. It clashed with the unnerving silence and filled your being with horror. The man writhed on the altar, gasping for air and arching off of the cold stone. His breath seemed to catch in his throat as the bucket shifted towards his other eye and filled his socket with burning liquid that stole his vision. An even louder howl of agony left him as he twitched and squirmed, trying to escape his fate.

His movements slowed until he went limp. The committee looked on expressionless yet certainly hopeful. Isaac took a knife from his pocket and cut through the man's restraints. Freeing his now still body.

Bile rose in the back of your throat as Father Gray opened his mouth to speak once more, but no words left him.

In an instant the man sat up, springing to life and looking around like a confused, angry animal. His head turned towards Father Gray and before anyone could process the awakening of their god the man reached out and effortlessly tore out his throat. Blood leaped from the wound and ran down the fist of the man as he brought it to his mouth. It smeared across his jaw as he devoured it. Soon he jumped onto all fours and pounced onto the now wheezing Father.

Red flew through the air all around the altar, shining in the moon's glory. Several people were stuck in place their feet glued to the ground frozen in absolute dread. Father Gray was torn apart while others ran shrieking. No one but Jenny tried to help. Her life was quickly extinguished, shredded by his claws she collapsed to the ground. One by one people fell with blood spurting from wherever they were ripped, cut, or bitten.

You ran. You felt like a newborn deer as you sprinted through the forest. Your legs felt numb, running on autopilot yet feeling like you could fall over at any second. Leaves and low-hanging branches whipped at your skin but you couldn't be bothered to duck. You felt like vomiting, you felt like screaming, you felt like curling into a fall and accepting your fate but you never slowed down. You had no clue where you were going you just knew you needed to get away. You needed to find people, you needed to find safety.

When your feet finally hit concrete you fell to your knees and hurled whatever meal you'd eaten hours before in front of you. Your vision was blurry from tears as you looked around you. A town. It was a town.

You screamed.

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