An Unwanted Encouter

You've gotta be kidding me!

I doubled over, panting in exhaustion.

I hadn't been running that long but I was already out of breath. No, it was even worse than that.

Am I having a heart attack? I clutched my chest, panicked but relieved to find it was just working overtime.

“Wow. You're really out of shape, huh?”

“Shut up!” I gasped.

I glared at the thief who had stolen my phone. She was laughing at me, safely out of reach.

The chase had gone on way longer than I expected. No, it wasn't that. She was just much faster than I had expected.

She was running circles around me, leading me this way and that. It did nothing to quell my anger, which in turn did nothing to help my stamina.

She had taken me past empty streets, lined with shuttered store fronts and alleys filled with empty trash. I considered calling for help a few times but the city, a skeleton of its former self, was completely absent at night.

We were somewhere near the pier when I had finally doubled over by a flickering street lamp.

How the heck did we even reach here? Was I that out of it?

“I honestly didn't think you'd come this far. I half expected you to give up a while back. What's so special about this phone anyway?”

“Isn't it normal to take your things back from thieves? You're the crazy one, stealing someone's phone like that!”

She laughed.

There was some truth to her words. Had she taken anything else, I would never have done all this. Way too much trouble.

But that phone had my most precious things on it.

My carefully curated collection of moon photos, gathered over the course of three years.

Just thinking about it restored some of my strength, but I didn't let it show. I remained head down, watching her feet closely.

I'll pretend to be exhausted and when she lowers her guard, I'll get her!

Sure enough, she came a little closer. She was leading me on after all. If I didn't follow her, there was no point to any of this.

“That's true,” she chuckled and took another step closer.

Just one more.

“But, trust me. I'm doing you a favor.”

“Doesn't feel like that.”

“I am. I'm saving you.”

“You really are—” I lunged at her. “—crazy!”

She deftly dodged my grasp and danced away.

“Dammit!” I cursed.

Her twinkling laugh rang out in the night.

“Hahaha, what was that? I can't believe you actually tried to, hahahaha.” She broke down in a fit of laughter, clutching her stomach.

Red faced with a mix of shame and anger, I could only watch. “Just give me my phone.”

She wiped a tear from her eye. “I will. But not just yet.” She walked over to one of the abandoned warehouses by the pier side. “You'll thank me later.” With that cryptic remark, she sank into the darkness of the abandoned warehouse.

I waited a moment but she didn't come back out. Yeah, no way am I stepping in there, I thought.

Another moment passed.

Fuck.

I went in.

As I stepped in, the doors shut behind me, shaving a few years off my life. The sudden sensation of something entering my hand from behind took a few more as well.

I spun round but there was nothing there to be seen in the darkness but I could hear a whoosh as something dashed by me.

I inspected the object placed in my hand. It was my phone.

Before I could process this, the warehouse stirred to life.

In hindsight, I can appreciate the effect they were going for but, like all things Noctis Vitae, the execution was a bit lacking.

It started with a flicker—one candle igniting in the dark, then another, then another. But unlike some well-rehearsed ritual, the sequence was a mess. Flames bloomed out of order, jumping from hand to hand in chaotic bursts, their glow revealing glimpses of shadowed faces beneath dark hoods.

The eerie silence I expected? Nonexistent.

Instead, the moment was punctuated by the hissed curses of members struggling with their lighters, the sharp click-click-click of stubborn flints, and at least one exasperated voice muttering, "Shit—does anyone have a spare?"

Slowly, unevenly, the candle light spread across the room, and my eyes adjusted to the sight before me.

Two rows of cloaked figures stood on either side of an open pathway, each holding their candle aloft. The wavering flames cast long, distorted shadows on the warehouse walls, making it look like the figures were stretching, twisting in the flickering light.

And at the very back of the room, positioned dead center between the lines of cultists, stood a stage.

A simple, rickety thing—hastily constructed wooden planks, slightly uneven, as though one wrong step would send it crashing down.

On it stood a man.

Even without full light, he commanded the space. Hands clasped behind his back, he was waiting. Watching.

And I had the sinking feeling that everyone else in the room had been waiting for me.

“Welcome,” the man bellowed. “We've been expecting you. On this night, we welcome one more life to join us. We are Noctis Vitae, the ones tasked with bringing light to the impending, never ending night that befalls our world. We bring life to the dead and solace to the disconcerted. Now, we —eh? Wait, what are you doing?”

What I was doing was trying to get the doors back open. I had my phone and thus no reason to listen to this nonsense.

But despite my efforts, it didn't budge.

“Psst,” one of the cloaked figures whispered at me. I ignored it.

“Psst, it's locked.”

“Well, where's the damn key?” I whispered back angrily.

“Probably with her.” The cloaked figure pointed to the stage, where the phone thief was now standing, right behind the man. She had changed into the goofy cloak that seemed to be the standard attire.

Catching my eyes, she grinned and dangled something lightly. A ring of keys.

“Just play along. It won't take long.” the cloaked figure whispered. “Probably.”

Just great. I was trapped.

I folded my arms and turned back around, facing the stage.

“Ahem.” The man, and leader of this whole circus, cleared his throat. “We welcome you. It is not to be taken lightly, having the privilege of being amongst our numbers. But after a recommendation from a highly ranked member, I have decided to judge you to see if you are worthy of entering our inner circle.”

A highly ranked member, huh? So she wasn't just a harmless crazy. Just my luck.

I sighed.

“Sorry to disappoint you, but I have no interest in being a clown for your little circus. I wouldn't even be here if it wasn't for the crazy lady behind you. That said, can you open this so I can leave?” I kicked the warehouse doors, causing flakes from the rafters to float down.

The man seemed taken aback for a moment, then he laughed. “Wonderful!”

The crazy lady smiled. “Isn't he?”

I raised an eyebrow but for the first time I felt a little unease. Wasn't I actually in a rather dangerous situation? Locked in a closed space with a cult? They seemed harmless enough but I didn't actually know that for sure.

If they got riled up, what could I do to defend myself? Getting mobbed to death wasn't exactly my preferred way to go out. Especially not after coming this far.

“It would be a waste, wouldn't it?” the man said, shaking me out of my thoughts.

“What would?”

But he ignored my question. The leader spread his arms wide, his voice ringing out through the warehouse.

"Before the world changed, there were two kinds of people. The dead… and the outcasts."

He paced slowly across the rickety stage, letting the words settle.

"The dead called themselves alive. They woke up, went to work, played their roles, and called it living. But what was it, really? A performance. A soulless, mindless routine, laid out for them before they were even born. They followed it until they withered away—corpses that hadn't yet been buried."

A few murmurs of agreement rippled through the crowd. Some nodded fervently, others clutched their candles like lifelines.

"And then there were the outcasts." He exhaled the word like a benediction. "The ones who didn't fit. The ones who saw the cracks in the script and chose to walk off the stage."

He stopped pacing, looking over his audience.

"I was one of the dead once. A cog in the machine. A salaryman, counting the hours until my own funeral. Then, one day, I collapsed. Overwork, they said. My body failing me. But I know the truth now."

He pointed upwards, eyes wild.

"It was a sign!"

A wave of whispers surged through the crowd.

"The Creator shook me awake. He stripped me of my illusions, tore my pathetic life apart, and left me with nothing—nothing but the truth. And what a blessing that was!"

He clenched his fist, voice trembling with emotion.

"But the dead did not understand. My family, my so-called friends—they turned their backs on me. Called me crazy. Left me to rot. But I did not rot. I rose!"

Applause broke out. Some cultists cheered. Others wiped their eyes.

"And then, just as I found my truth, the world was given its truth. The sun—the great oppressor—will die. Society, the lie we were all shackled to, will crumble. And yet…"

He spread his arms, lowering his voice to a near whisper.

"Even now, there are those who cling to the old ways. The dead who wander in despair, crying for a world that never truly lived."

Silence. Breathless. Waiting.

Then, his voice rose, thunderous again:

"But we? We are not the dead! We are the chosen! We are the ones who embrace the end, who rejoice in the death of the lie!"

He lifted his arms skyward.

"Sun Kablooie!!"

The room erupted.

Cultists threw their candles to the floor in a frenzy, cheering, crying, hugging, shaking with passion. The sound was deafening, a wave of raw emotion so intense that for a moment, I could only stare.

I had been completely forgotten in the pandemonium. Bewildered, I stayed far away from it all, flattening myself against the doors.

”Sorry about them, “came a voice at my ear. I nearly jumped out of my skin.

It was the cloaked figure from before. He had pulled his hood down and, the discarded candles gathered in his arms lighting his bespectacled face, gave me an apologetic look.

“They always get so excited when he does his speech. Doesn’t matter how many times we hear it—this part’s always the highlight of the night.”

I blinked.

Then, the leader’s voice cut through the madness once more:

"And now—our newest brother!"

The room snapped to silence.

Every single cultist turned toward him.

I tensed. This was worse than I had even imagined. So much worse.

The leader smiled.

"I see it in your eyes. You are one of us. An outcast, cast aside by a dying world. But cry no longer! Here, among us, you are found. You are home. Your new life begins tonight!"

The warehouse exploded into cheers again.

I turned to the member beside me. ”Don't I get a say in all this?” I pleaded. “Wasn't there supposed to be a test or something?“

He gave me a pitying look before jerking his head to the stage. “Guess you passed.”

I followed his gaze, where the cultist woman grinned at me, keys dangling between her fingers.

My stomach dropped.

Fuck my life.