It was obvious I’d been kidnapped by her apocalypse cult. But why? What could she want with me? She’d seduced Vik to her side, but surely they couldn’t think I would ever join them.

A memory stirred in my mind: Neil listing the items required for a summoning ritual, including a human sacrifice… Oh god, they didn’t want me to join them. But Neil said they could find a hobo off the street! Why abduct me?

She’s already ruined my oldest friend, I thought, and I recalled how she’d antagonized me in class yesterday… Did she have some personal vendetta against me? Well, the feeling was mutual. So we finally understood each other.

I wanted to reply to her with some cutting bon mot, some spontaneous display of wit to wound her to the bone. Alas, my well of wit was shallow and my tongue felt swollen and lethargic. All that came out was another low moan. My mouth was so dry…

“It was terribly difficult,” Epistola replied, “fastening a thing as flimsy as you to that hand-truck. No curves for the chains to cling to.” She laughed maniacally, and her collection of cultists quickly joined in. It was an old familiar sensation; everyone laughing at defenseless Andi Slate.

I worked my mouth desperately, trying to generate enough moisture to speak. Finally, I was able to muster two croaking syllables: “You bitch.”

Another burst of histrionic laughter. Then tap tap tap as she stepped right up to me, took my head in her hands and tilted my face upward. She tore the sack harshly away, snatching some of my hair with it. I bit back a yelp.

Epistola’s face hovered before me, her deeply-shaded eyes peering into mine, her red-painted lips forming a grotesque mockery of a friendly smile. I saw nothing in her gaze that reminded me of a human being, and I itched to look away. Unfortunately, her grip on my face was too severe to let me turn my head, and I could only glance downward.

The sight of her body was not a terrific improvement over her eyes. She was no longer wearing the clothes I’d seen on the screen. Instead, she was dressed up like an absurd video game trollop, all red leather straps and chrome buckles that revealed vast expanses of bare skin. The tops of her thigh-high red boots were shaped like flames, and they tapered down to preposterously tall needle-like heels.