About These Cultists...

"...is there a cult?" Lois stared the self-proclaimed "demoness" in the eye. The reporter's throat felt slimy, and she could taste the ammonia from the strange off-white cocktail. An attentive waitress took her empty glass and replaced it with a fresh one, the woman's naked breasts almost brushing the reporter's face.

"I have my assistants," Angelica Blaze said. "They support my work."

"Your work," Lois said. Almost without thinking about it, she brought the fresh cocktail up to her lips. She knew that she should go easy on the drinks, but honestly she couldn't even taste the **** in these anymore. Just the slimy, tepid, thick and salty goo, with an aroma reminiscent of ripe cheese.

"The Black Door is part of it," Blaze said. "All these women that work here—they are what you might call the 'outer circle.' Keep things running smoothly, and they are compensated for their efforts. The women you came looking for, they started out working for me here..."

Lois almost sputtered on her drink. Instead, she swallowed. Her stomach felt odd, not nauseous exactly, just...like something was spreading out, an unusual heat that seemed to seep downwards.

"You knew," she said. "You knew why I came here."

"Oh yes," Angelica leaned forward. "Why else would Lois Lane, the Daily Planet's Greatest Reporter, come here? That's part of why the Black Door is here. A weirdness magnet. It draws in strange energies, lost souls, magical legacies..."

"Why?" The reporter insisted. She didn't resist as a soft hand plucked the half-empty glass from her hand, because a moment later it pressed another in there, full to the brim and warmer than before.

"The Great Work," Angelica whispered. "I've been teaching women magic, Lois. In exchange, they help me prepare for a particularly difficult and potent magical ritual."

Lois didn't ask the obvious question. She was busy sipping from the brimming glass, the gooey slime almost seeming to squirm down her throat. Her lip played at the edge of the glass, wishing she had something to eat or smoke...anything to do something with her mouth.

Blaze stood. She seemed to loom over the reporter in that moment, a dark-haired woman in a dark dress, her head eclipsing the light bulb above her so that her face was cast in shadow. A hand was held out to Lois.

"Come. I'll show you what we're working on. Who knows?" The shadowed face smiled. "Perhaps you can help."