She freezes in terror and fails to act.

Unnerved by the guilt of stabbing someone in the back and too frightened of the unknown that lay beyond the big, wooden doors, Althea froze. Dozens of possible deaths and dangers lay in wait, and unfortunately this cost her the scant bit of time fate had provided. At last the cultist turned his head and caught sight of the dagger-wielding priestess. By the goddess, he was hideous! Clearly he had not attended the ceremony, for Althea would never forget such a face. Based on his cheekbones and jawline and the thick head of hair that at least remained on one half of his head, the man might have been handsome at one time, but the corruption of this damnable cult ruined any shred of his beauty. Pallid, loose flesh hung over withered cheeks. His nose was gone, revealing the bony slits of his skull beneath. No lips remained, and all but a handful of rotten, brown teeth hand fallen from his jaw. But this was not the worst of it. Worms. Maggots. Larva--whatever they were, there must have been hundreds of them.

"Ahhhh, there you are," he slurred in a voice that sounded like stirring porridge. The swarm of inch-long, waxy, pale-green worms crawled around his hollow left eye socket, some navigated in and out of his nose slits. But so many others filled his mouth. Althea nearly gagged when she saw the man's tongue lap across his blackened gums. When the tongue snaked a whole meter out from the man's face, she leapt back in fear. It wasn't his tongue at all. With every inch it became more evident that this tendril was another worm. Fat and purple, the long tongue worm swam through the air in front of the cultist as the robed, maggot-laden man shambled toward her. A quick glance down revealed a trail of the small waxy worms had already been strewn on the floor behind the man, like a macabre mockery of petals behind a flower girl at a wedding. At the thought of bridal ceremony, the unborn abomination inside her belly stretched its eely length along the walls of her womb. Althea winced, her free hand clasped to the side of her small potbelly as if to hush the unwanted offspring. Althea backpeddled along the chamber's cold, outer wall, shaking her head in disgust and horror. When the priestess stepped on a loose stone, she yelped and nearly tripped over her own feet. The sudden imbalance led Althea to drop the knife, and it clanged onto the dark stone floor, sliding away from her.

"No... please..." she whimpered, and felt the thing growing inside her toss and turn again. "Angh! Not noooow." Althea clenched her teeth and wrapped her arms around her waist. Within her huddled position she could feel the flesh of her belly swell outward in every direction. "Ohhh," she puffed out her cheeks, casting her blue gaze first at the fourth black skull to now appear on her belly, and then up at the infested guard. He had stopped in his tracks, his head tilted to one side like a curious puppydog. Much like his face, the state of his robes appeared far worse for wear than those who had attended that accursed ritual. A long tear ran down the left side of his robe's chest, and she could see more of the worms wriggling across his sickly pale skin beneath the tattered fabric. His physique was also unusual. While most of him appeared of average build or even slim, his belly rounded out farther than Althea's. He looked like a woman over six months pregnant. At this distance, though, Althea could see discernable movement beneath the taut tummy. He was not pregnant, per say... he was chock full of the worms, like a bag overfilled with rice.

The meter-long purple worm now hung out of the maggot man's slack jaw and looped around his shoulders like a pet snake. Althea could see the tip of the worm pucker and gape like a small leech mouth. That's when a familiar, black ooze bubbled up to the tip like pre-cum. It spattered messily onto the floor with a warm honey-like consistency. And then she saw a shape bulging near the puckering, purple sphincter. The slim waxy tip of a worm poked out. "By the goddess... is that where those came from?" Althea clapped her disarmed hand to her mouth, her cheeks puffing with nausea. Had the bigger worm laid the little worms inside the man? Was he little more than its mobile host? Was man or worm in control of his body? But before she could discern any answers, the man let out a rattling, wet growl, spraying a dozen maggots onto the floor between them. Lurching forward, he lunged at Althea and grabbed her by the wrist in his calloused, rashy hand. The fat white worm from before now inched its way down his tattered sleeve, crawling closer to the acolyte's grappled arm.