For the last few years, I’ve been a cult leader. I know, I know, it’s not the most auspicious or honorable profession, but I had my reasons.
I started the cult a couple of years after I got out of college. I was a theater major, which basically meant I spent four years and hundreds of thousands of dollars on a useless piece of paper. I was working dead end jobs and being crushed by student loans. I needed a way to make money quickly. I figured the best way to do it was to start a cult and scam some folks out of a few bucks.
The initial pitch of my cult was this: there was a demon named the Demivorn who would destroy the world and leave only the sinless behind. The way to be free of sin was for people to give me, the Sin Holder, all their money. I would “sacrifice” myself for my followers by taking all their money and anything of value because those things were sinful. It sounds silly to you, sure, but if you, like me, are charismatic enough, you can make some folks believe it. Add in some silly acts where I writhe around and say the Demivorn is “speaking through me” and, well, suddenly some rubes have fully bought into my phony religion.
Hey, at least I got to put my theater degree to use.
Within a few months, I’d gotten enough money from these rubes that I was able to pay off my student loans. Now, sure, I could’ve stopped there, but I got a bit greedy. I liked getting money and I liked the feeling of power. Being the leader of a cult does absolute wonders for your ego, let me tell you.
I bought an apartment building for my cult to stay at, told my cult to find jobs, and had them give me their salary to pay for everything. Admittedly, only a bit of money went to apartment upkeep and getting food and supplies. Most of it instead went to fund my addiction to expensive watches and my separate mansion home. You might say that that’s scummy, but is this all that different from what landlords do? It’s just capitalism.
Besides, it’s not like I was that scummy. I made sure my followers had food and shelter. When COVID came around I made sure they got vaccinated. And it’s not like I’m one of those cult leader types who fucks his followers or leads them to suicide. I just want money. And really, is that so bad?
Anyway, every year, around the summer solstice, I perform a ritual for my followers. We all go out to some empty field, put down some rocks and crystals to make things appear more ritualistic, and then one of my followers reads some nonsense I wrote down in a “summoning book.” As the gibberish is read aloud, I start to writhe around and “speak in tongues” (make random noises and sometimes shout random words in different languages ranging from Russian to Klingon). This goes on for around ten minutes, then I stop, stand up, and tell my followers, “The Demivorn has spoken through me! He says to pay your Sin Holder more tithes!” Or something along those lines. It’s all an act to add some more authenticity to the cult and get me some more dough. It’s a simple thing, and for the last few years it had gone on without a hitch.
This year, though, something different happened. A day or so before the solstice, I’d tried LSD for the first time. I’d been getting so much money that I wasn’t entirely sure how to spend it, so earlier in the year I figured I’d try some drugs. Did some crack, Special K, and ecstasy before I tried LSD. The trip wasn’t too extreme; I didn’t have all that much.
Anyway, I arrived to the solstice a day or so after my LSD trip, got in position, and listened as my follower read nonsense from the “summoning book.” I started doing my usual thing, but then it seemed like my follower mispronounced a word. And at that moment, I felt myself fall.
I fell, down and down and down until I hit a cold stone floor. I looked around, and found I was stuck in some sort of hole. I could see a pinprick of light, no larger than a pixel, miles and miles above me. Below me, I saw a red eye open on the floor. First one, then two, then ten, then one hundred. The floor was covered in eyes, all staring at me. On either side of me on the wall, I saw fissures open up. No, not fissures. Mouths. A dozen of them, six on each side, each filled with a maw of stony fangs. In front of me, another mouth opened, bigger than the others.
The mouths spoke, one word at a time from each mouth, each with a different voice.
“Wake me from mine slumber, what is it thou seek? The Demivorn is hungry, and thy soul begins to reek.”
I stammered uselessly, unsure of what to say or do.
The mouths, in response, laughed in unison.
“Lies are loosed from thou, spoken in mine name. Thy sins are dark and many, done for wealth and fame. Now thy tongue is tied, thy mouth closed in fear. The Demivorn shall speak for thou, for he talks without peer.”
The twelve mouths on my sides all let loose long tongues that grabbed my limbs and encased my body. The mouth in front of me then spoke.
“The Demivorn comes, speaking through thy breath.”
I watched in horror as the eyes on the floor moved, crawling onto me and embedding themselves into my flesh. I screamed, but found my mouth was gone. Instead, I saw a new mouth open on my stomach, and speak in the voice of the Demivorn.
“Through thou the Demivorn lives, bringing plague, war, famine, and death.”
And with that, I woke up back on the field, surrounded by my followers. All of them were looking at me with a combination of concern and awe. I noticed distantly that I was covered in sweat.
I stood up, and awkwardly cleared my throat. “Um,” I said. “The…uh, Demivorn has spoken through me. He, uh, he says that…that the amount of tithes are fine and you’re all doing…well. Really, really well.” I left quickly, ignoring the confused mutterings of my followers.
I went back to my home and tried to explain this away rationally. Maybe it was an aftereffect of the LSD? Maybe it was just a bad trip or something? Maybe the other drugs I’d been taking somehow mixed and led to this? I wasn’t sure, but I decided to go with that. It made the most sense.
I went into my bathroom and splashed some water on my face, hoping to bring myself back to reality. I looked into the mirror, and then stumbled back in shock.
I didn’t see myself in the mirror. Instead, I saw some…thing shaped like me. A being covered in eyes, with six mouths along each arm and a large maw on its stomach.
I looked down. In real life, my body was normal. But in the mirror, it was…that.
“It’s just a trip, it’s not real, it’s just a trip, it’s not real,” I repeated to myself. In the mirror, I saw the mouths laugh.
“Fake, thou says? What a fool thou are. The Demivorn is no faker than thou, and much more real by far.”
I gulped. “Wuh-what do you want?”
“A mouth to speak, a hand to hurt, a soul to call mine own. Thine works well, and with thy hand, this land will be mine home. The children shall cry and the rivers, they shall run red. And when the winter sun rises upon the land, all mortals shall be dead.”
It took me a few seconds before I understood.
“You…you’re gonna use me to kill humanity? By the winter solstice?”
“Thy soul is black, but intelligence thy does not lack.”
I punched the mirror, the glass shattering and cutting my hand. I fell to the floor in the fetal position, hearing the Demivorn’s laughter in my ears.
At some point, I must’ve passed out. I woke up a while later, got up, and looked in the broken mirror. All I saw was my reflection.
It must’ve been a bad trip. It was all fake. I breathed a sigh of relief.
For the next few days, things were pretty normal. I made sure not to touch any more drugs, and just kept taking money from my followers. Strangely, I noticed that I seemed to have gaps of time where I couldn’t remember what had happened. I figured it was because things were so banal that my brain just didn’t commit them to memory. I shrugged it off.
Then, about a week after I saw the Demivorn, while preparing to address my followers, one of them found me and asked, “Sin Holder, why did you speak in rhyme earlier?”
That brought me short.
“What did you say?” I asked.
My follower, worried he’d angered me, gulped. “Well, earlier, when you were addressing all of us, you spoke entirely in rhyme, something I’d never heard you do before and isn’t in any of the texts. I was wondering why that was.”
“When was this?”
My follower looked at me, confused. “Just a few minutes ago. Don’t you remember?”
I had no memory of addressing my followers. Last thing I remembered, I was going to address them.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted my reflection in the window.
No.
Not my reflection.
His reflection.
My follower must’ve noticed my reaction, because he asked, “Sin Holder, are you ok?”
I cleared my throat. “Yes, yes, I’m fine. All I will say is that my actions are, uh, beyond your comprehension. I have my reasons. Now, begone!”
The follower gave me a slightly quizzical look, but complied.
As the weeks and months continued on, I noticed bigger blank spots in my memories. There were entire days I was not aware of. I think the Demivorn was using my body more often than I was. In my brief bits of awareness, I noticed a plan forming. I saw blueprints for government buildings, plans for explosives, and caches of weapons littered around my home.
He really was using me to end the world.
I tried contacting the FBI or CIA to warn them about this plan. Before I was able to finish a call or email, I’d black out and come to in front of a mirror. I’d see the Demivorn in place of my reflection, all 13 mouths smiling cruelly.
I’m watching the clock tick down to the winter solstice, fully aware that I can’t do anything to stop the Demivorn. The world will be purged of all life, and I know the Demivorn will sit upon the pile of ruined cinders that used to be the world and laugh.
I can’t stop him.
I’m nothing more than a tool.
His tool.
The Demivorn is here, speaking through my breath.
Through me the Demivorn lives, bringing plague, war, famine, and death.