Jack couldn't see anything as he came to consciousness. During the ambush at the apartment building, he vaguely remembered a needle being jabbed into his neck and everything was hazy after that. He was very stiff and tried to stretch his arms and legs out. He couldn't. They were restrained, and tight. Panic started to set in, and the fact that he couldn't see became more unsettling. He tried shaking more violently, but everything was being held down. There was even something wrapping his throat down.

Then a voice spoke through the darkness, "Easy now. Here let me help you." Jack felt fingers brush against his face as they pulled the bag off his head. It didn't take much for his eyes to adjust since the darkness still held except for a few candles mounted on the smooth rock walls. That and a lantern held by the man standing over him, the one who had removed the bag. His face was deathly pale, and his eyes narrow; accustomed to the dim light it seemed, and his long dark hair was pulled back from his face. The rest of him was covered by a heavy black robe, which seemed to shimmer as the light danced in different ways. Were those needles woven through the robe, Jack wondered briefly, his mind still dizzy.

"Here, have some water," this dark figure said, holding a glass up to his lips. Jack shifted away from the cup best he could, glaring at this man. "You think its poison? Or that your refusal will sting me?" The man took the glass away and took a sip from it himself before setting it down. Jack wished he could ignore how dry his own throat was. "Do you know who I am?"

"You're part of the Imperial Cult, evil demon worshipers working to infiltrate all levels of society and bring about the apocalypse," Jack spat at him. A faint grin crossed the other man's face.

"My name is Abraham. I am part of the Imperial Cult as you say. I oversee our work. That work has included influencing governments, law enforcement, the economy, health care, every level of society as you say, though I think you underestimate how successful we've been. And yes, we will bring about the apocalypse as you call it, though I personally prefer 'the age of renewal' when the True God can remake life in this universe."

Jack scoffed, "You can dress it up all you want and sell it however your twisted brain sees fit, but it's the devil you worship, not God!" Jack hoped for a rise out of him, some flash of doubt perhaps. Abraham only shrugged as if they'd been debating what restaurant to eat at.

"Names are a tricky thing, and rarely that consequential once a larger view is taken. Consider the name: The Imperial Cult. Cult has such a nasty syntax in today's age, but taken back to its roots it simply means worship." he said. Those cold eyes examined Jack. He was a piece of meat on a cold metal table, held in place by leather straps. He could try and debate with this Satanist all day (was it day? He couldn't tell in the dark), but there were more important matters to consider.

"What is it you want with us?" Jack asked. "Where's Gregory?" Abraham smiled. It was faint, he worked hard to hide his emotions, but Jack could see he was enjoying this.

"Gregory is nearby, and alive at the moment, though that will change soon. As for what we want, well you've already touched on that haven't you? We want to raise the True God from his imprisonment, and you, Jack, have a very special role to play in that." Jack tried to shake his head best he could, but the strap around his throat felt tighter as he moved.

"You're insane. I would never help you, none of us would."

"Jack, we're beyond your say in the matter." Then Abraham laid his ice-cold hand on Jack's cheek. Jack tried to squirm away but Abraham only pushed closer. It made Jack's spine stiffen. "You have been chosen. We've been watching you for a long time, such a good-hearted man you are, so heroic. And yet naïve. Just like Adam in the creation fable. And that is what we need, a new Adam. Once you burn, the serpent can rise again."

Abraham stood over Jack, and leaned in to plant a kiss on his forehead. The feel of his lips made Jack's stomach turn. Then Abraham left, walking past Jack's feet. There was the sound of a door opening. Jack wanted to call something after him, something to let him know he wasn't going to win, to show Abraham his threats didn't scare him. But nothing came to mind. Because in truth, he was very scared.

Abraham walked down the corridor filled with rooms for "guests" like Jack, back toward the main hallway, which stretched far beyond sight in both directions. He knew his way though, he never got lost down here.

Thirty minutes later he was back in the central chamber, the heart of the Sanctum. His brothers and sisters, the other true believers were gathering around the pool at the centre. The day's ritual would start soon, but Abraham wished to have at least a quick word with the day's sacrifice. He supposed it was more pride than good sense that urged him to talk with Gregory, even if there was the potential he could get information out of him. Abraham decided he would give himself five lashes for his ego.

Each step Abraham took echoed in the vast chamber, as he walked toward the naked old man on the perverted cross. The ropes fixed him tight against the wooden planks. There were cuts on his wrists from a night of struggling to break free. He slouched, docile now, knowing he would die soon, having accepted that, which was something Abraham could admire.

Abraham walked carefully around the ring of the pool. It was now half full, or would be after today's sacrifice. It was time for Adam and Eve to enter the pool, and for the trinity to be gathered.

Gregory looked at him with a weak grin. "You're the one who leads these fools now, is that right?" Abraham walked as close to him as he could, minding the pool, so that he could look into his sad old eyes. A life's mission that would amount to nothing.

"If that is how you would phrase it." Gregory wheezed slightly as he struggled to respond, and Abraham couldn't deny the pleasure he felt at that.

"Bennings, was his wife even possessed, or was this all you guys?"

"Mrs. Bennings is possessed, and Mr. Bennings contacted you with no outside push from us, as we suspected he would. Precisely why a demon was sent to possess his wife in the first place."

"You control demons now?" Abraham admired the brave face Gregory was trying to hold, but it was hardly believable.

"No, we do not. But they serve the True God just as we do, and we all follow his plan. I'm curious whether the demon will kill your old friend or just his wife. I hope you hold onto your inability to save any of them here in your final moments." Gregory glared at him, then something seemed to click on his face.

"I think I know you." Abraham couldn't help but feel a twinge of intrigue. He had been incredibly careful over the years to avoid notice out in public.

"Oh, how might that be?"

"The cult in Arkansas, thirty-five years ago, right? We broke it up, turned everything over to the cops. You were just a teenager then, right?" Abraham tried to hide the nerve it struck to think back to his youth in Arkansas.

"I don't recall seeing you back then," Abraham said with ice.

"Like I said we turned things over to the local authorities, but the surveillance, the research, that was us. We knew your faces, we knew your names. We should have taken all of you out when we had the chance." Gregory spat in the pool, perhaps to emphasis his point. Abraham felt his calm composure slipping as blood rushed to his pale face. Abraham had to bite his gums to regain himself.

"I'm curious why you didn't kill us then."

"It wasn't my mercy that saved you, believe me."

"Your brother, Logan, then?" Gregory nodded.

"Yup, he just couldn't support killing a group of teenagers, even if you were torturing people and draining their blood. He hoped the law would do its part, but let me guess that only led to your recruitment by these fuck heads?" Abraham drew his breath slowly, but Gregory didn't wait for a response. "I guess I'll add that to my long list of regrets. At this point it is what it is. You're now the asshole running the Imperial Cult, and you've finally captured me after all these years."

"Your actions have meant nothing," Abraham spat with more emotion than he meant. "If it wasn't me standing before you, another would be in my place. And as for you..." Abraham allowed himself a moment to smile. "I wasn't expecting you to go back into the field yourself." Abraham was pleased to see Gregory's cocky composure slip.

"Where's Jack? What have you bastards done with him?" he cried out.

"He is set to play his role, but I am curious where the girl is, so I'll make you an offer. Tell me where Caroline is and I will let you go. I will make it so you can board a private plane to any destination you choose. You could live out your days on a beach getting drunk and fucking beautiful women. Much better than strung up on a cross naked, waiting for me to slit your throat like a pig."

Gregory spat again, this time in Abraham's face. Abraham only smirked and wiped his face with his palm.

"I figured that would be your response. No matter, Caroline seemed a fitting match, but there's another I've considered. She will fill the role and Caroline with be hunted down and butchered in time, just like everyone else you care about." Abraham was done talking. He considered gagging Gregory, but he wanted to hear every cry he made, every obscenity he tried to hurl. He wanted to hear the fear in Gregory's voice, because there was always fear when the ritual began.

He took his place at the head of the circle, across from Gregory. The chanting commenced. And once it was done, Gregory's blood flowed.