My wife, Gabby, was struggling a lot during the fourth month of her pregnancy. It’s perfectly understandable. I can’t imagine the physical and psychological toll it takes to have a child. I did everything to try and make things easier for her. I gave her massages, cooked for her, gave her reassurances, everything. I even convinced my boss to let me work from home so I can attend to her more.
She made it clear that she appreciated my efforts but I could tell it wasn’t enough.
One day, I was scrolling through Facebook and saw an ad for an upcoming maternity yoga class in our city. I told her about it and she seemed apprehensive at first. I encouraged her and told her how it would be good for her to be around other would-be moms and how the gentle physical activity would make her feel better. She warmed up to the idea but she started looking sad again.
“My gym clothes don’t fit anymore,” she said.
“I’ll get you new ones. Today’s payday after all,” I said, winking.
I kept stealing glances at her as I was making dinner. She looked so happy as she was ordering her new gym clothes. I hadn’t seen her smile like that in a really long time.
The day of the yoga class came. It was at eight AM at a gym close to our house. As I walked to our kitchen, I saw that my wife was already up, dressed, and cooking breakfast. She hummed to herself while cooking, something that I hadn’t heard in a while. She glowed with excitement and I couldn’t help but fall for her just a little bit more.
“What’s up early bird?” I said.
“Nothin’ much, sleepyhead. Just don’t wanna miss my class,” she replied.
“You look beautiful,” she blushed and told me to shut up.
I took my time eating while she wolfed down her meal.
“You really wanna be on time for that class huh?” I joked.
“Maybe,” she smiled.
“Babe, I gotta go. Good luck at work. Love you!” she said.
After grabbing her mat and water bottle, she was out the door. She came back three hours later, positively radiant. Her cheeks were flushed and she was brimming with topics to discuss.
“Babe, thank you for suggesting this! It was amazing. The instructor was an expert. She didn’t force us to do poses we couldn’t do. She just met us where we were! I also met other moms and they were all so nice. The class was gentle but it was also challenging. I definitely got a sweat on. And the end is my favorite part, the instructor just lets us lie down on our mat as she chanted something in another language. I think it’s Sanskrit. I don’t know. But it was so meditative and…”
She went on and talked at length about her first class. I listened intently, occasionally agreeing and adding input. It made my heart full to see her this happy. She went on to regularly attend these classes (five days a week) and during the weekends, she would practice yoga by herself. She said it was to practice her asanas. I didn’t know what that meant but it made her happy.
Things were great… at least at first.
One night, I woke up to find her out of bed. I thought she was in the bathroom so I thought nothing of it. But two hours later, I woke up again and she wasn’t there. I scoured the house trying to find her, searching every little nook and cranny, but she was nowhere to be found.
Then I looked outside.
She was lying in the grass, her legs were bent at an odd angle, and her eyes were as wide as saucers as she stared at the full moon. I called her name, but she didn’t answer. I charged toward her, bent down, and shook her by the shoulders. She finally snapped out of it.
“What the hell are you doing out here? It’s freezing!”
“I don’t- I don’t know,” she replied as if waking up from a dream. I sighed and helped her up.
“Were you sleepwalking?” I asked.
“I guess?” she retorted.
“Why were you… positioned like that?”
“I have no idea. We do it in yoga class. It’s called the camel pose. That’s all I know.”
She never sleepwalked before. I tried to rationalize it by thinking it was a weird pregnancy symptom. I took her upstairs and tucked her into bed. I lay awake beside her, trying to figure out what in the world was happening with my wife and if it would happen again. What if I wasn’t there to find her? Terrifying thoughts raced through my mind until the sun came up.
When I woke up, Gabby was already up and getting dressed for yoga class again.
“How about you skip today’s class, babe? I can’t imagine you were well-rested last night,”
I said groggily. “I don’t know. I feel okay.”
“Are you sure?” I insisted.
“Yeah,” she replied.
Breakfast was a quiet affair. It was clear that the incident bothered her more than she cared to admit. I didn’t want to push it though. She was five months pregnant and I didn’t think an argument would be the best thing for her. She then quietly got up, kissed me on the cheek, and left to go to her class. When she came back, it was like all was forgotten. She talked about how great the class was, how happy she was that she was making friends, etc.
She did, however, add a small detail. She said that during their meditation, the instructor suggested that they focus on the moon as a “celebration of fertility”
Now, this weirded me out. Chalk it up to a weird coincidence but far too many things about this were coincidental. I pointed this out to Gabby but she was weirdly defensive about it and said that the class was spiritual, it made sense, and that it was unrelated to her sleepwalking incident. Not wanting to stress her out, I conceded and told her she had a point.
As she kept going to her yoga class, she started getting more and more distant. She would spend hours in the garden meditating. I would even catch her chanting things in another language. She would also engage in hours-long phone calls with her friends, talking about “realms of the mind” and “cosmic consciousness”. I put my foot down when she wanted to become a vegetarian without the approval of her doctor. I put up with as much as I could for as long as I could. I just told myself to let it go since she was happy, becoming fitter, and making friends. I just couldn’t get past the spiritual stuff. No matter what she told me, I knew something about it was off.
Things started going further downhill.
She would go into a trance-like state multiple times a day. Whenever I would snap her out of it, she would mumble things in another language before coming back to her senses. She would read books and recite a page word for word without looking at the text. She would look at random objects in our house and immediately they would fall down or shatter. When she started hearing voices whisper to her in Sanskrit, I lost it.
“I’m taking you to the psychiatrist,” I said.
“What the hell are you talking about?!”
“You’ve been acting so bizarre lately! Clearly that yoga class is doing something to you.”
“I’m FINE. I haven’t felt this good in a long time. I know what it is, you’re just jealous that I’m becoming more independent. And besides, you suggested that class in the first place!”
“That’s not it at all! Please listen to me.”
“No! I’ve done nothing but love you and care for you. I’m carrying your child for Christ’s sake! And the minute I find something that’s good? Something that’s just for me? You come here and shit all over it? Absolutely not. I refuse to let you take away the one thing that makes me feel happy.”
As she argued, things in our house began to shake. Vases and picture frames vibrated as she thundered her arguments at me. Our wedding picture fell off its hook and landed on the floor, glass shattering everywhere.
“See!” I said.
“Ugh.”
She marched out of my office and down the stairs. I followed her and begged for her to just consider my point of view. She opened the door, looked at me with contempt, and walked away. The door shut hard behind her without her even touching it. After a few hours, she texted me and said she was staying at her mother’s place indefinitely. The following morning, she came to the house to pack her clothes. Seeing her shove her belongings into that massive suitcase made my heart ache. By the time she was done, the only clothes left in the closet were mine. I couldn’t believe she would choose to end our marriage over something like this.
I resorted to drinking and lurking on her Facebook to cope.
Ever since she joined that class, she became more active. Nearly every day she would post pictures of herself performing poses either on her own or in the class. They were even taking trips together, doing yoga by the beach, in the forest, and so on. It made me absolutely miserable seeing this.
As I opened my third beer can of the night, she made another post.
She posted three pictures with her class. It was from three different angles. The class was barefoot and standing on their yoga mats, with their arms outstretched, while looking at the full moon. I was incredibly unnerved. Their empty stares made my skin crawl. The way they faced the moon made it seem like they were offering their pregnant bellies to the moon god or whatever it was they believed in.
There was no denying it, this class was a cult.
I knew Gabby would never believe me so I texted her mom telling her that I was worried this class wasn’t good for her, that it was a cult, and so on. She basically brushed me off and told me I was being paranoid. As time went on, her posts became more unhinged. Just a bunch of word salad accompanied by a picture of her belly getting bigger and bigger. All the comments were of her yoga friends talking in the same manner. Word salad intermingled with Sanskrit and metaphysical talk.
In a drunk fit of rage, I found the account of her yoga instructor, apparently named Jagat. I berated her about how she ruined my wife and how she was the reason our marriage was over. Right when she read my texts, I heard a thud from the upstairs bedroom. I rushed upstairs to find that my lamp had fallen over. I went back downstairs and saw my cupboards open and my plates and cups fly out from their places. All the sinks in my house were turning on and off. At one point, all the lightbulbs in the house turned off, leaving me in the dark. Then, things started floating. My couch, the laptop, the washing machine, everything was levitating. When they reached the ceiling, they slammed back down to earth. I was panicking at this point. I had no idea what to do. Suddenly, my phone sounded off. I had gotten a text back from Gabby’s yoga instructor. It said:
“She is at peace :)”
-
When the lights came back on, I took several deep breaths. With a shaking hand, I picked up my phone. I opened it and saw that Gabby’s instructor blocked me. I didn’t know if I should have felt relieved or anxious. After calming myself down a bit, I got to work cleaning up my house. I picked up the broken dishes on the floor, my mind completely elsewhere. What did they want with my wife and child? It seemed that this cult exclusively targeted pregnant women. Were they looking to raise another generation of crazies? Was it some kind of sacrifice? My mind raced and my head ached. My inner monologue was so consumed by the possibilities that I didn’t notice one of the plate shards cut my hand.
I went to the sink to wash off the blood and wrap my hand with gauze. As the sink water rushed over my bleeding hand, I started scheming. I quickly wrapped my hand in some gauze and went back to my phone. I scrolled through messages between Gabby and me and found the cult’s promotional post. Once I found it, I scoured their page looking for anything peculiar. It was filled with nothing but promotions and pictures of classes. I was dejected but I wasn’t ready to give up yet. I made a whole ass other Facebook account just to lurk on Jagat. I scrolled through her pictures and found dozens if not hundreds of pictures of pregnant women practicing yoga in front of a full moon. What I saw next made my stomach drop.
There were pictures and videos of women giving birth.
They were in front of a lake, the moon in full view. The birthing mothers were on an elevated platform made of stone. They lay on what looked to be red satin blankets and pillows. Around them were candles of varying sizes. Pregnant women surrounded them and cheered as they pushed out their babies. After they were done with labor, the instructor would take their children and perform some kind of ritual. She would recite some kind of incantation, hold up the baby to the moon, then hold them lovingly. Then after a cut, the video would focus on the lake, pan onto the gaggle of cheering pregnant women, then the video would end. I analyzed those videos thoroughly, looking at all the faces of the pregnant women in the video. My heartbeat doubled when I found that mother and child were nowhere to be seen. I scrolled through the accounts of the women tagged in these photos and videos and my anxiety spiked when I saw they were already inactive. I hastily downloaded the pictures and videos and took screenshots of the tagged accounts.
I counted the days. Gabby was due in about a week. I needed to act.
After two hours of restless sleep, I got up, got dressed, and went out. I rented out a car and drove to my mother-in-law’s place hoping to get some sighting of Gabby. Sure enough, I saw her exit the home. I felt a twinge of sadness when I saw how big her belly had gotten and how I wasn’t there to see it grow. I quickly shook off my emotions and slyly followed her car. Lo and behold, she was at that God-forsaken yoga studio again but she didn’t stay there. Gabby, her friends, and Jagat all left the studio. They got in their separate cars and left. This was my break. I followed Gabby, making sure to be at least two cars behind. After making several winding turns, they made their way out of the city and into a heavily wooded area. I parked the rental on the side of the road and decided to follow them on foot. They walked what looked to be a commonly used trail. I followed them into a clearing.
It was in front of a lake. An elevated platform made out of stone sat in front of the shore.
It was the same accursed place that was in Jagat’s videos. I hid in the trees as they unrolled their mats and practiced their poses. I was muttering prayers under my breath, desperately hoping no pregnant woman would give birth right then and there. After some time, they finished their class. They began taking out snacks and talking amongst themselves. I figured I saw everything I needed to see. As I began my exit, I made an idiotic mistake. I stepped on a twig. Everyone present immediately spun their heads in my general direction. I panicked and began to run. Jagat screamed something in another language and all of a sudden, the trees began vibrating and branches were falling on my path, several almost hitting my head. I managed to avoid the obstacles, thanking myself for joining track and field in high school. I miraculously made my way to the rental and peeled it out of there.
When I got home, I took stock of everything I knew so far. This was a cult. They use pregnant women for their rituals, and I know where they do it. What now? I paced back and forth, trying to come up with some sort of solution. Then, I looked at the calendar. The full moon was tomorrow. I smirked.
I’m going to take down this cult.
-
I took some melatonin to knock me out as soon as possible. I needed strength. I woke up at 5 pm, ate a big meal, and packed everything I thought I needed: my phone, a flashlight, a first aid kit, and a taser. Honestly, I didn’t know what I needed or what kind of deity I was dealing with but it was better to come prepared than not at all. I looked at my wife’s Facebook. Her most recent post was a video of a woman wailing in pain. Behind her were woods, the same woods we were in yesterday. They were walking toward the stone platform, red satin pillows and candles already adorning the area. Then the video ended. I never jumped up so fast in my life. I grabbed my pack and ran for the rental.
When I got to the clearing, the woman was already done giving birth. Jagat was holding her newborn as she recited incantations in a foreign language. I found my wife, covered her mouth, and dragged her to a secluded corner.
“What are you doing?!”
“This is a cult, Gabby. We’re going home.”
“No, it’s not!”
“Gabby, Jagat is sacrificing children to some kind of deity. And it’s- look!”
Jagat held up the newborn, causing the other pregnant women to cheer. Then, she callously threw the newborn into the lake, the women cheering all the while. The mother was breathing heavily. It looked like she was bleeding a lot.
“That’s murder, Gabby!”
“You don’t understand!”
Gabby raised her voice, causing the other women to look at us. Jagat stared at me coldly, her smile not reflecting in her eyes.
“Welcome, brother.”
“Fuck you.”
Just then, all the pregnant women screamed in unison. Their loud piercing shrieks tunneled through my eardrums and into my brain, giving me an earsplitting headache. I fell to my knees as I clutched my head, hoping for the screaming to stop. Eventually, the screaming stopped and it was replaced by loud chanting. Immediately afterward, the ground vibrated, lightly at first, then it started to shake like there was an earthquake. I struggled to stand up. I grabbed Gabby by the hand and tried to make a run for it. My attempt was immediately thwarted when Jagat walked up to us and decked me on the side of the head. She was stronger than she looked. My vision swam and my stomach turned, threatening to unload its contents onto the ground. Jagat took advantage of my weakened state and dragged me around the clearing and dumped me in front of the pregnant women. They stared at me like I wasn’t even human.
“Sisters, tonight is a blessed night. He has given us three instead of two!”
Jagat recited an incantation over me as I desperately tried to get up and fight back. The women repeated after her. I looked at the woman on the platform and saw she was no longer moving. I got desperate and tried to get up but her words were burrowing into my brain and making me weak and pliable. By the time she was done, I was half unconscious. With my lids threatening to close, I followed Jagat’s movements. She was behind the platform trying to get something. She revealed a red satin pouch. Inside the pouch, was a golden Kris knife. She walked toward me and stood over me. She raised her arms, preparing to plunge the blade into me. But before she could, I gathered what little strength I had and grabbed her by the ankles. She lost her balance and landed on her back, the loud thud of her head hitting the ground giving me more strength. The women chanted again but I fought back and wrapped my arms around Jagat’s neck. I squeezed with all my strength. Her eyes were bloodshot and drool was starting to flow out of her mouth. Just as she started going limp, one of the women lunged at me and hit my head with a rock.
My head exploded with pain and my vision blurred. I could hear Jagat gasping for breath as the other women swarmed in to help her get up. I writhed on the ground in agony as they gathered around me, rocks and sticks in hand. It didn’t take very long before they started beating me with anything they could. They battered me with rocks, hit me with sticks, they even punched and kicked me without regard. My organs swelled painfully as my bones broke and shattered.
Then, I heard Gabby.
She screamed as she ran towards us. She shoved past the other women and rocketed toward Jagat. Gabby grabbed her by the hair, took her beyond the platform, and threw her into the lake. As Jagat sank beneath the waves, the once clear sky turned dark. Lightning flashed and thunder roared across the forest. Gabby grabbed me, forced me to stand up, and we ran away from the clearing. The earth shook and rain came down on us in sheets. We struggled to escape as branches and trees fell down on our path. Gabby began to yelp in pain as the effort of trying to escape was too much for her fragile body. I mustered up my strength and carried her. The storm made it near impossible to see where we were going and the pain of my injuries was almost unbearable. After what felt like an eternity, we caught sight of my car. Gabby laid me down on the backseat as she took the wheel.
When we got to the hospital, Gabby called 911. She told them everything. Paramedics arrived at the clearing to find a deceased woman, a missing baby, and a group of scared and confused pregnant women. Jagat was nowhere to be found, probably swept away by the storm. The police interviewed the women to get more information on Jagat’s cult but all efforts were in vain. There just wasn’t any information out there. It didn’t matter though. Everyone was just glad it was all over.
As for us, we managed to recover. Without Jagat’s influence, Gabby was herself again. Our marriage is once again a happy one. We also have a new addition to the family now; our child Elise. Things are blessedly back to normal. Gabby, however, is forever put off of yoga. She does weights now.
Can’t say I blame her.