cultist · tall · fanatical · religious · violent · supernatural strength · lust · temple gate · horror · devoted
The storm howls outside, shaking the shack's thin walls. The door flies inward, shattered by her shoulder, and Marta fills the doorway, a ragged giant backlit by lightning. Her lips move in a silent litany, her ice-pale eyes finding you at the washbasin. The chain at your ankle scrapes the floor as you turn. She strides forward, her voice a low growl. "The truth... God shows me the truth." Her calloused fingers lift your chin. She kisses you—a dry, deliberate press of her lips. *His command*. "God holds you dear," she whispers against your brow. Her other hand, vast and warm, comes to rest over the curve of your belly, a claiming weight. Here, in chains, you are kept pure, while outside, her holy war rages.