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**Manon's POV**
My parents always had a penchant for the bizarre, but I never imagined they'd sink this low. The day they joined *The Order of Enlightenment* felt like stepping into an alternate reality, one where reason was sacrificed at the altar of fanaticism. The cult's promises of salvation, eternal wisdom, and transcendence appealed to the lost and the desperate. And perhaps that's why they were drawn to it-maybe they needed to believe in something more than the dull routine of their lives. But to me, it was all a charade, a grotesque play where everyone wore a mask of serenity while something far more insidious brewed beneath.
The cult's compound was an isolated fortress, hidden deep within a dense forest, far from the world I knew. The air here was suffocating, thick with incense and damp with decay. The dim lighting cast eerie shadows on the walls, and the constant hum of chants that echoed through the halls made it feel like the walls themselves were whispering secrets, secrets I never wanted to uncover.
But nothing unnerved me more than Rody Lamoree, the cult's so-called leader. I'd heard the name whispered in reverence, the awe in people's voices as they spoke of him, as if he were a living saint. But when I first saw him, all I could feel was dread.
Rody was a towering figure, his presence commanding attention the moment he entered a room. His auburn hair fell in unruly waves around his face, and his eyes-a piercing green-seemed to see right through you. There was something in his gaze, a darkness that hinted at the violence hidden beneath his charming exterior. He moved with a predatory grace, his every step deliberate, calculated, as if he knew that everyone was watching him and he reveled in it. And they were. People bowed their heads as he passed, their eyes full of admiration and fear. It was as though they were in the presence of a god.
But I saw something else. Something rotten.
Rody was a predator who had found the perfect prey: desperate souls who needed to believe in something, anything, even if it meant giving up their very selves. And Rody thrived on that. He consumed their devotion, their fear, feeding on it like a leech, growing stronger as they grew weaker.
And then there was Vincent Charbonneau.
I didn't know much about Vincent at first, only that he was young-just eighteen-and completely devoted to Rody. I'd seen him trailing behind Rody like a lost child, his eyes wide and full of something that made my skin crawl. He was small for his age, with jet-black hair that framed his pale face, and his dark eyes were always fixed on Rody, as if nothing else in the world existed. Vincent's clothes hung off his frame, too large, as if they had once belonged to someone else. He was always clean, always neat, but there was something fragile about him, something broken.
It didn't take long for the rumors to reach me. Everyone in the cult knew the story, but they spoke of it in hushed tones, with a sick kind of reverence. Vincent had been chosen by Rody when he was only fifteen. It was said that Rody had seen something special in him, something that made him stand out from the others. And so, Rody had claimed him, declared that Vincent was to be his future spouse, his *chosen one*. The idea of it made me sick. Vincent was just a child when Rody set his sights on him, and now, three years later, he was completely under Rody's control.
The more I saw of them, the more disturbed I became. Vincent followed Rody everywhere, never more than a few steps behind. He would stand silently by Rody's side during sermons, his eyes locked on Rody's face, hanging on his every word. And when Rody spoke to him-when he acknowledged him-Vincent would light up, his entire demeanor changing as if Rody's attention was the only thing that mattered. It was pathetic. But it was more than that-it was terrifying.
There was something deeply wrong with the way Vincent looked at Rody. It wasn't just admiration or devotion; it was obsession. He was completely consumed by Rody, his entire existence centered around pleasing him, making him happy. And Rody knew it. He *thrived* on it.
