A questioning, and a ritual

You give Mason several thoughtful looks as the stories are told, but he simply shakes his head and nods towards the scene below.

Another girl steps forward and sheds her robe, standing naked for a moment before climbing onto the altar. She lays on her back, her hands clasped on her belly. her ankles together. She's lovely, with a mane of light brown hair, and she looks delicious; her skin tanned and perfect except for small patches of white skin at her breasts and groin. She stares up at the ceiling, biting her lip as though to calm her nervousness.

"Sister Chanel, last night you were reprimanded for creating a disturbance, shouting into the night, speaking of events better not spoken of. Then within minutes of leaving this enclave, you did the same thing. And then again at mid-day. What have you to say?"

"Mother Minerva I beg pardon," Chanel answers in a quavering voice. "I received two packages, referring to...to events...And I was frightened. I lost control. I am deeply sorry Mother."

"Your weakness has aroused the suspicions of Dean Hawkfeather. Sister Newton has reported as much. And what did you say to him? Or to Mister Sharp?"

"I said that it was a prank Mother. A prank by jealous girls. And I distracted Mr. Sharp, much as Sister Margot distracted Mr. Carter. I am sure that he thinks no more of this Mother."

"Are you Sister Chanel? I am not so sure. You have been very indiscreet my child."

"Yes Mother. I am deeply sorry. I ask your pardon Mother. Your pardon and that of all assembled here."

"Pardon was granted you last night Sister Chanel. And yet you are here for similar cause. It would seem that your commitment to the Sisterhood is a fragile and malleable thing. Mother Salus, the Chalice of Probity."

The other red robed figure steps forward with a large goblet, going to each acolyte in turn and making them drink. Finally she reaches Chanel, who drains the goblet as smoke begins to waft into the room.

You look at Mason with alarm, silently mouthing "Fire?" He shakes his head and puts a reassuring hand on your arm, nodding to the scene below. You catch a whiff of a faint fruity aroma, and feel a humid moisture on your skin as the 'smoke' reaches you.

"Movie fog," he whispers. "No fire."

Uncertain, but willing to believe, you turn your attention back to the developing scene below. Mother Salus gestures to Chanel's prone body, and four robed Sisters step forward and bind her to the altar, parting her thighs to expose her fully. Chanel whimpers but makes no other protest, her face slack and unfocused. As they step back the Sisters seem to sway as if theu're having difficulty with their balance.

Mother Minerva steps to the front of the dais, throwing her hood back to show the alabaster mask she wears. She points at Chanel's bound body then raises her arms in supplication.

"It is the Time of Summoning!" she intones.

"The Summoning!" answer the Sisters in unison.

"To Whom Belongs this Flesh?"

"He Who Will Come."

"What Shall He Do?"

"Take What Is His."

"How Shall He Travel?"

"By Scale and Claw."

"What Shall We Give Him?

"All That We Have."

"What is He Called?"

"Lacerta Rex!" the final response is an almost exultant shriek as Chanel writhes on the altar. Silence falls as the fog thickens, the candles lighting the eerie scene.

And then you heard it. The sound of clicking, like claws tapping on tile. And a susurrating sound, like dry leaves blowing.

Or scales dragging over stone.