The Affliction — Chapter Two

Mary was well on her way to learning the ropes at her new home. She dwelled now in a series of caves carved long ago by an underground river in the heart of a mountain. It had been two weeks since she was found near starvation, squatting in one of the many abandoned buildings in what was once a prosperous tourist spot. She had been wandering for years, scavenging what she could in every ruined town she could find. She was never much of a survivalist, but she somehow stayed alive. The previous incident in the shed had frightened her. She continued to wear caution as her armor.
It had been explained to her that the shed was a sort of quarantine room, where newcomers were held long enough for any sign of disease to show. The serum applied to her eyeball was meant to speed the healing process, as meanwhile she was given nutrients via a tube inserted in her esophagus. It had the convenient side effect of putting a person to sleep. She was thankful for being spared consciousness throughout the whole ordeal. Now she had regained most of her strength, and was beginning to integrate into this peculiar, cult-like society under the mountain.

Life here was strange. The whole establishment was centered around one man, who called himself John. She remembered him as the one with the glowing eyes and awkward stare. John never spoke, but the others had plenty to say on his behalf. Apparently, John had come from the stars to save what was left of mankind. He had alleged inhuman powers and was capable of reading your every thought. Mary saw right through all that talk. This was a cult, plain and simple, but they kept her fed and gave her a bed to sleep in. She would stay, for now.

Three years ago, a comet the size of Alaska hit Earth near the Indian Ocean. Chaos ensued. Tsunamis swallowed most of the continents, and washed away all signs of life. There was not much left of what was once the seat of humankind. The skies blackened, plants and animals died. People died. The last of Mary’s family died two years ago, in her arms. She had done unspeakable things to survive; things that haunted her and made her feel unworthy of the kindness she was receiving. She told herself every morning, that today was the day she would leave the caves. She just hadn’t gotten around to it yet.

High noon brought the sound of a singing bowl, ringing eerie deep hums throughout the mountain. That was the signal for all to gather in a large chamber to await John’s arrival. He would enter and proceed straight to sitting on the hard cave floor, surrounded by his followers. They all would sit in silence, sometimes for hours. Most called it communion, others, meditation. Mary called it a brainwashing ceremony, and she had yet to attend. She only poked her head in once or twice to see what all the fuss was about. It was over nothing. She felt sorry for them all.

A few hours passed. Mary enjoyed the alone time while others were in communion. She knew the ceremony had ceased when she heard the singing bowl. Wherever John went, another walked a few paces ahead, playing that blasphemous sound. It was a signal that John was on the move. He usually returned straight to his private chamber and was not seen for the rest of the day, but this time, the sound of the bowl grew louder. John was approaching.

The singing bowl player entered first. This was the second man she remembered from the shed. He was covered in sweat and seemed entirely uncomfortable. He met her gaze with a single raised eyebrow, as if he found the whole ordeal as ridiculous as she did.
John came next. There was that uncomfortable stare again. He sat across from her and continued to peer right through her.
The singing bowl player–what was his name?–sat next to them, forming a triangle of three souls engaged in total awkwardness. John continued to stare. The bowl player shook the sweat out of his clothes. Finally, the bowl player spoke.
“John wants to know if you want to learn the singing bowls.”
This caught Mary off guard. Playing the bowls seemed an honored position, as she had only seen this one man privileged with the task. John stared. She blinked.
“What? Why?”
“Because. I’m not always here. Someone has to do it.” replied the young man, bluntly.
“But why me?”
This time, John spoke up.
“Be-because, you. . . Can.”
Mary nearly laughed out loud. Now things were beginning to come together. No wonder John never spoke. He was mentally handicapped in some way, perhaps even deaf. This guy with the singing bowls, he must be the one secretly in charge. Mary decided to take a chance. She was curious, and wanted to expose these frauds for what they were. Playing the singing bowls would be her ticket to the inside.
“Alright,” Mary said, “When do we start?”