DEMONitized

Chapter 7

The sound of waves lapping against sand woke Gwen Warner once more. She fixed her eyes on the starless sky above and let out an exasperated sigh. She was back on the weird island with the weird cult for the second time in as many days.

Scrunching some wet sand in her palms, she pushed herself off the ground to take stock. She held the handfuls of sand to her face to marvel at their realism—the smell of salt and plants in the air were natural as anything. 

Unlike her last trip to this strange place, however, there was a clearing in the trees and what looked to be a mossed-over stone path beckoning entry. It wasn't where she'd been dropped off when she was last on this island. There were enough features around to suggest as much.

She winced with disgust as her shoes filled with saltwater but trudged onto dryer ground. The feelings she had during her last visit returned - as did the brain-scraping thought that she'd been there before. 

For all the hemming and hawing and confusion, at least the night was pleasant. There were no strange sounds in the forest, flames, campsites, or robed figures. Just a peaceful stretch of trees and grass that bore a distinct and familiar scent. 

In a way, the island reminded her of her hike from earlier that day. Sure, there were probably animals, and danger abounds, but she'd have no reason to worry about them if they didn't bother her. 

One other thing that stood out - the presence of moonlight yet the lack of the moon. The sky was as empty as it was hours ago, but something illuminated the area enough for Gwen to see where she was going. 

She gingerly walked down the stone path laid out for her, past several landmarks of nature that she took note of in case she had to get back. A few piled up stones, a miniature waterfall that emptied into a brook, a hollowed tree stump. They were all things she could find in the forest of her childhood, but nature did not arrange them in a way she could recall. 

She let out a furious grunt upon reaching a clearing in what felt like the forest's center. Had she found civilization, or had civilization found her?

She was greeted by a rudimentary stone temple, like something a couple of steps up from a caveman's home but not the kind of thing you'd find in Ancient Greece. The pillars marking its entrance were not carved cleanly, and the roof had nearly collapsed on itself. 

And yet, small fires were hanging on iron basins in the entryway, suggesting someone else was still around. Gwen instinctively reached into her pocket to grab her phone in the hopes of filming whatever confrontation sat past the entrance, but her phone had disappeared again.

She took a deep breath and slipped inside the temple, glancing behind her to ensure nobody followed. 

The inside of the structure was far more extensive and grander than she expected. Despite the rough-hewn exterior, the temple's interior was alight, with several flaming sconces on each wall and a promenade leading to what could best be described as an altar.

Someone was kneeling by that altar. An older gentleman dressed not in the garb of those cultists from earlier but instead looked eerily like Teddy Roosevelt. He had a classic plinth hat and the adventuring gear one might wear to a Halloween party. 

Rather than shout at the stranger, Gwen decided to mirror what she'd done earlier and sneak through the pews of the temple until she was close enough to observe him better.

The man looked drenched as if he'd just swam from somewhere or got badly rained on. In front of him, on the floor, lay a blob of white cloth that resembled a small human body. He shifted position, balancing himself on both his hands and knees until he was fully prostrating on the carved-out floor.