The Great Cult Escape
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November 13, 2020
Dear Future,

Some people say that the gods put us here.

Others say that the gods merely allowed us to put ourselves here.

But really, what about it mattered? Between the shouts of strangers and whispers of the ones I work alongside, I didn't have time to bring up the new perspective I had.

The perspective that the gods were built to tear us down.

Yet no matter my commitment to that view, I decided it best to keep to myself. When you worked among the fleshcrafter you learn to stop thinking individually, but as one instead.
But no one was ready for when the world began to eat itself. No side had an upper hand, it was a free-for-all.

I did try my best to save whom I could, but I was only one woman, and I could only do as I was told. Without permission to continue, I became nothing but a girl in a row with the creatures that created me.

Yes, I. My individuality is questionable at best, I am starting to think that I lost whatever I was years ago, but since this happened I've seen a lot more of ‘me’ coming back, almost like its crawling to survive.

These thoughts I have are all useless compared to my task at the time. I had a handwritten letter, signed by myself, to deliver to my good protector, the wonderful Karcist Lu’xkkia.

It took a bit of a drive to get to the church, as expected. I lived in the city, and lord knows Karcist Lu’xkkia hated the population of concrete walls and nobodies with such prying eyes. I sometimes felt she was too judgemental, but when you looked like she did…

The church was magnificent. Spires of wood and bone mixed into one, sigils and runes decorated whatever orifice they could be scribbled around. I always thought the karcist was a naturalist— it made me chuckle to think about.

I still remember how it felt to walk through the archway of the door, a warmth surrounding my form almost as though thousands of small hands grabbed around my body and pulled me in, oh so delicate as they did so.

When I was initiated into the church, it was a reaction of fear that I felt entering the building, but later? It became a feeling of acceptance, and now, nostalgia. I thought it was strange how the church worked, it was not like the other karcists churches, hers was… more…natural?

I don't know. I remember how I held that letter with an iron grip. I mean, who wouldn't be nervous when our species could be wiped out in under a week. I, along with the karcists, relied on the flimsy paper.

I should have known to relax; the karcist I admired would protect me as I did her. I can only think of how lonely we used to be, the two of us alone. Though it was expected, while the other karcists were much more open and began families, Lu’xkkia was a lone wolf. I ended up her only member.

The small size of the church may have been what saved my life. When the karcist had read my letter, we were quick to leave the church behind. It was an urgent matter, and taking the situation into her own hands she demanded, and I wasn't about to decline. I couldn't imagine if she would have chosen someone else had there been more church members.

What happened in the next 24 hours of this exchange is what I am here to talk about. The fleshcrafters advised writing my feelings was the best way to let out all that plagued my mind.

So, whomever it is reading this, this isn't some fairytale to learn from, this is the end of the world. Try to follow along.

After long hours of travel, Karcist Lu’xkkia and I ran into two new figures, and that day I was introduced to the Karcists Nadya and Nakkiaken. One was freshly escaped from the clutches of an angry god’s behemoth, the other assisted.

Being shadowed by these three figures of admirable strength I gave my all to lead them to heaven, the place of safety. I know, I know, I haven't spared you much detail on what is going on, have I? Remain patient, this world has no more time for those who cannot adapt.

Know that I was once in your place. These three were so powerful, admirable, influential over my actions, however they had also kept so much from me. Don't worry, I refuse to repeat their behaviour here.

The secret they kept was of the god I saw that day. The bringer of hope, Grand Karcist Ion. I don't know how to write this part, or how to explain to someone how it felt. I can only advise you to try to think of a moment where someone out of reach looked your way, and then their god did the same.

I recall how we traversed the barren, evacuated city of Ottawa, concrete walls beginning to tower among centennial buildings, and then there was a change of atmosphere. It was almost as though time itself had stopped and everything I had yearned for was gifted to me.

He was magnificent, strong, he had taken a form I cannot describe, but he was Ion. The true Ion, the one rumoured to be dead. As he promised he would in all those ancient scripts, he was here to save us. Yet I was the one to lead him. Just myself, Maria. Maria, who only worked beside most lonesome karcist was going to be the guide of the god who had written Sarkicism into existence as we know it.

But, as much as I’d love to ramble, I'm sure you get what I mean.

The Grand Karcist was here as our protector. It was with his shadow and my guidance that we lived to tell such a tale. During our travel I felt the whispers of him plague my mind, feeling as though I suddenly knew and felt all that was around me. We were being led to Area-27.

My mind keeps bringing me back to the Grand Karcist. Whomever you may be, I doubt you know him. I didn't even know him, for a long, long time. But while it may not make sense as to why yet, I promise I’ll explain soon, but this is my story and so it will follow my thought process, deal?

I don't hear any objections.

As I was saying before I interrupted myself for your sake, we were headed to Area-27. In my letter to the karcist, I explained how the Foundation area was a place we could live, we just had to get in. While I may be able to get knowledge of how this place will survive, that didn't exactly put me in a high enough position to get front seat tickets there.

Yet, as one does, I put trust into the Karcists getting us in. I was very happy to say we were almost there, everything had been perfect so far.

I said ’had been’ for good reason, because soon, the Grand Karcist stopped us in our tracks. He said something about honey, about bees, and death. I like to think I wasn't the only one at the time who didn't have a clue as to what was happening.

The Grand Karcist took lead with my words, almost shielding me as the higher fleshcrafters followed behind as though mere shadows under this godly figure.

I cannot say for certain what followed, only what I remember seeing at that moment. I recall seeing the smallest of honey bees land on my arm, so I swatted it off. Slowly, more landed on me- the smell of honey became strong as I saw the Grand Karcist begin to breathe heavily, soon heaving for air as he clutched his throat. Red pulsing bee stings littered his body in comparison to my untouched skin.

Only moments later, there were hands over my eyes, which I later discovered to be that of Karcist Lu’xkkia. When those hands pulled away, there lie the body of Ion, limp on the road. My confusion grew with the sheer amount of honey I saw; it was pouring out of his mouth, eyes, and nose like a fountain. He looked to be in so much pain, dying, dear god was he dying.

I was pushed and pulled forwards, told not to look back, but I couldn't stop myself. I heard his voice whisper things to me, I felt so horrible just leaving our saviour there to die. I could have sworn I saw Lu’xkkia prodding his body for something. With the once silent city slowly filling with the buzz of insects wasting time was no longer possible.

Then, we ran. We ran through streets and dark corridors, into a magnificent church and down various tunnels, all to reach a gate. I saw that logo from the texts again, along with those words about a foundation. Stepping from behind that gate was a man in a white coat.

He seemed to have been expecting us. I was once again left out of the conversation that followed, the only context clues that I can provide are that they gave him something, and we were allowed inside. I know this man very well now; his name is Yossi Leiner, and he is the one who suggested I write down my thoughts, alongside the encouragement of the karcists.

It felt like he did not want me there but the ones I had travelled with insisted, I am so thankful he agreed. Otherwise I would be dead, dead like the rest of this world.

This morning I was given a lot more of the story. It has been two weeks since we came here. Dr. Leiner and I have grown close, and Karcist Lu'xkkia gifted me a necklace, wrapped in the cloth that was once a part of Grand Karcist Ion’s clothing. The necklace was covered in runic carvings I have yet to decipher. While I write this, I wear it with pride just as he did.

So, little journal of mine and hopeful reader of the future; I hope you have learnt something today, as that you keep hold of this when the world ends all over again.

Signed, Maria Demers

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