The 13th Sect

October 1st, 1313


I’ve set out to find my Uncle’s cabin. The stories, no, legends, he told me as a child cannot be true.

Lack of evidence to The 13th Sect’s existence does not equal to a lack of their existence.

“The 13th Sect”, was the fuel of my childhood nightmares. My Uncle told of blood, death, and unspeakable practices.

“Who is The 13th Sect?”, “What is their purpose?”, “Where can I find them?”, “Why didn’t I believe those I’ve loved?”

...... 

I’ve reached my Uncle’s cabin. Traveling by foot is the only way to access the front door.

Upon entering, I see several candles are lit.

Wax drips on the seat of a desk chair and runs over onto the floor, covered in scrolls, papers, and hand-scratched ravings, clearly of a man gone mad.

The walls are lined with the same. Hand-Drawn illustrations, pages of horrifying lines from an ancient textbook, blood-splattered notes, and earthly filth.

A sudden gust of wind blows out the light from my lantern. Fear hits me as I spin around and see the front door slam against its frame. A candle topples over and sets fire across the desk. I scramble to grab as much of my Uncle’s belongings and life’s work. It is all I can do now at this point. Finish my task, find The 13th Sect, and learn the truth of my family’s history.

......

I’ve managed to exit the cabin intact, with several pieces of a life-long puzzle in hand.

As I try to unfold and read years of secrets, a sound breaks my focus.

I see a man standing amongst the trees, signaling, at me. Storing away the gathered work of my Uncle, I decide to head towards the man.

As I get closer, I can see the reddish-orange sheen of fire dancing across his face.

“Hello, Walter.”, the man says.

How does he know my name?

...... 

October 7th, 1313

I’ve been traveling by foot through this God-Forsaken forest for too long.

My driver, the mysterious man, and I must find somewhere to rest. We can no longer push through our exhaustion.

The light from our lanterns reveals an unexpected clearing in the middle of the forest. Inside of the space, a building constructed of white stone.

Is it a castle? A fortress? A place of worship?

......

As we enter the structure through a stone archway, torches lining both sides of a seemingly endless hallway show us the path.

The hallway ends in a circular room, a pedestal with a metal basin rests in its center.

I leer over to look into the vessel and I see my reflection in a pool of blood.

“Don’t gaze for long. Lest thou be lost. Forever.”, says the mysterious man.

Before I can even steel myself from the eerie beauty of this edifice and the wildering thoughts of the

basin holding blood, I notice an ornate mirror hanging from a wall. It looks as if it is floating in mid-air, suspended by invisible forces.

It isn’t the only mirror... There are several more.

Thirteen, in total.

...... 

As I approach one of the mirrors, there is a reflection.

I can see my tired face, torches lit on the white walls behind me, the reflective vessel in the room’s
center.

As I look into the mirror, the reflection distorts, swirls. A black outline appears. It’s a building of some kind. A gravel path leads to its facade. A sign promoting an Inn hangs from small metal hooks. It stands to one side of the walkway. Window frames are drawn by yellow light emanating from inside. I approach the door and...

*knock knock knock*

One light cuts out and another one shines above the door frame. A moment passes and I lift my hand to knock again.

As I draw my fist back, a drop of red lands on my middle knuckle. Another falls on the back of my wrist. As I lean back, the same red liquid trickles down the door’s face. Slowly at first, then faster, as more sanguine fluid flows over the top of the door and out from its threshold, as it flows towards my feet...

“Blood. It’s blood!”, I yell out

...... 

October 16, 1313

Reeling from my recent experience, I know what these mirrors are capable of, but don’t understand a thing. What really happened? Was I inside the mirror? Where was the Inn? I’ve never seen or been there before... Have I?

“12... 12, 12, 12...”, quietly whispers the mysterious man

I thought I was going to be able to uncover The 13th Sect, my Uncle’s secrets, my family’s secrets.

Now I’m almost sure any man will be driven to madness, or worse, traveling down this path.

...... 

The mirrors, the papers, the paintings... Everything is connected, somehow. There’s no doubt in my mind, I’m closer to The 13th Sect. I can feel it.

Through the mirrors, I’ve traveled far and wide. To other places. Places I’ve never been before.

All without taking one step.

The Inn, London, a dilapidated mansion on a hill...

All of these places were filled with dread, horror, and show signs of unmentionable acts against
mankind. Still, just pieces to a puzzle.

As I delve further into this crimson soaked abyss, I know what is at stake.

Oh, Agnes. My dearest, Agnes.

......

October 22nd, 1313

The madness is setting in. I’ve seen visions from over half of the mirrors now.

A town square in France, an ancient pyramid soaked in blood, a murderous Dinner Party...

Must I gaze into every one of them?

“4, 4... 4... 4,4,4...”, whispers the mysterious man

I feel weak, the room is spinning almost as fast as my head, I must rest if I am to continue down
this path and put an end to my fears.

......

Only a few mirrors remain. The 13th-Sect has powers beyond my comprehension. I wonder if I’m just a rat for their test of resolve.

Looking through the extensive pile of papers and paintings, I’ve found disturbing texts and works. It seems only more time and further research into what I’ve found will tell me what I want to know. I remember the stories my Uncle told. I find it hard to believe he was a man willing to serve The 13th Sect.

Inflicting pain and suffering amongst the living. Casting aside his beliefs for ritualistic nonsense. Running away from the family to hide his secrets.

What is his truth? Will I find it here as well?

...... 

October 29th, 1313

I’ve searched through all of the piles of letters, papers, and paintings from my Uncle’s cabin. I’ve found a photo with 13 men, twelve men have had their faces marked out with red...

One man remains untouched. I don’t recognize him. Who is he?

“1... 1... Only 1 remains...”, the mysterious man cackles

I’m close to unraveling this mystery.

I will find peace again.

My dearest, Agnes.

...... 

I steel myself, as I look into the last remaining mirror.

There’s a faceless man in a cloak. He’s walking towards the same Inn I encountered from the previous mirror. He opens the door and heads upstairs. A door. The number 13 cast in golden metal, tacked to it. The man enters the room. There’s a woman. Receiving orders from a doctor. She’s giving birth to a child. The man pulls back his hood. It’s my Uncle...

As I’m freed from the mirror’s trance, I stumble backward. The mysterious man leans over me and
I realize it’s my Uncle Felix.

“Walter, it’s me.”

I can only see Felix’s face. It is deformed, nothing like what he resembled when I was a child. Strings of wet hair, hang in front of his eyes. His forehead bulging on one side, almost as if he has been struck with a blunt instrument, wrinkles folding the rest. Dark grey rings around his pale blue eyes. Both sunken into near nonexistence. His nose, a stump. Practically useless as he only breathes through his thin white-lipped mouth. Emitting a sound like steam, his hiss. Small, jagged, rotten black teeth, those that remain.

Felix labors the words, “It’s time, Walter.”

......

The mirrors turn black, as my driver runs toward the hallway to escape. As he approaches the end of the archway, cold stones fold together like a toothed door and crush him.

The right side of his body still visible, his eye slowly closes, as a torch leaves his grasp. His remains
slide down, kneeling, them slumping over. A downward red brushstroke left where his soul departed.

Felix cackles with wicked glee

“NO E-sss-CAPE!”

His hair falling out, drifting down to the cold stone floor. His face sliding down, off his skull, leaving a pile of flesh. The remaining black coal teeth click-clacking as they fall at his bony feet. His cloak now shines. Revealing ornate gold threaded designs. Felix raises and extends his arm out toward the center of the domed room. Droplets of blood levitate, forming streams, and collect in a hovering sphere.

I can’t stop surveying the object gathering, emitting its miasma of living fluid.

I feel my life end, as my body crumples to the floor, relieved of all its weight, barely making a sound.

*SCRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAW!*

I am a fool. I fell into The 13 Sect’s trap. They needed family blood, my blood, to complete their otherworldly ritual. The power of The 13 Sect is limitless, yet growing.

I fear, they are unstoppable.

I’m sorry, Agnes...