No Escape From Tarkov

Chapter 7 - The Cult

I gasped awake, hitting the back of my head against a hard surface.

"Ow..." I muttered, bringing my hands to-

I couldn't move them.

...Not again!

I tugged at the restrains, but the rope around them withheld. They were tied to a pole behind my back, the same one I hurt my head with. A single window let in enough light for me to see where I was.

The room was old, and smelled of rot, a decaying wood that tickled my nose in a bad way. I sat with my back to the wall opposing the door out of here, a salvation just out of reach.

To the left was the window, the curtain was torn with a few slashes. It was a second exist option, though the glass shards were a risk. And to the right was-

HOLY FUCKING SHIT!

There were... instruments of torture; knives, scissors, hammers, needles, saws, creepy artifacts and...

Guns, they had strange markings on them, I counted ten of them lined up on the wall like trophies.

The gun cult. Why of all the zealots did it have to be them?!

I struggled against the thick rope, my wrists were wrapped in multiple layers of them, but my legs were still free to move freely. Yes! I can kick the wall backwards and break off the-

I couldn't get up.

A loop passed through a hole in the pole itself, meaning I couldn't even stand on my two feet.

...Fuuuuuck.

I must be cursed. This is the third time this week! This will sound very dark, but I'm surprised they haven't killed me yet. What do they want with me? Who were they? Well, I knew they were the gun cult which was as the name states; a cult revolving around praising guns and shit.

A bolt of pain surged through my head, fuck, what I wouldn't do for some Analgin right now. What even happened? I remember escaping the three PMCs after outsmarting them with the car and limping through the woods, and then... then...

They snuck up on me, tricked me, and bamboozled me out of my socks. And it was a she, and she had scales and...

She was a cultist.

And I was in the cult's den.

My heart threatened to jump out of my chest, my breathing shallow and quick. I've heard the stories, I've seen the pictures.

They were one, if not, the most dangerous faction in Norvinsk. They had a reputation for being brutal and sadistic to any victims they came across, some of them even had military grade weapons, making them a challenge for both USECs and BEARS. And some of them practiced cannibalism.

Cannibalism.

CANNIBALISM!

"Nu, nu, come on cyka!" I began moving the rope from side to side against the pole, if I generate enough heat to burn through the rope I could snap it and release myself.

Then, I'd have to jump out of the window and run again. But what if there's a wall around this place? I've come across one that was converted into a compound in the woods, o-or could it be this one?

I was panicking. I had to calm down, but that was easier said than done. Even if they weren't human, that didn't they'd treat me any different. Were they any different- no, focus, they can go burn in hell for all I care. I just have to keep trying and-

Someone was messing with the door's lock on the other side.

I immediately ceased what I was doing, horror washing over my soul. I went limp against the wall, pretending to still be asleep. For anyone watching me, as disturbing as it sounds, I'd look like I was peacefully resting, but a quick check of my pulse would tell a different story entirely.