the Return to Ravens Manor

chapter 8 the cult

Sarah could see the flicker of torchlight in their eyes, a glint of fanaticism that sent shivers down her spine. The cultists had been chasing her and Rachel for what seemed like hours through the dark, dense forest. Their chants filled the air, sending a chill down Sarah's spine. She knew they were outnumbered and outmatched, but she refused to go down without a fight.

As the cultists closed in on them, Sarah felt a surge of courage welling up inside her. She may have been a rational and level-headed person, but she was also a fighter when it mattered most. With a cry of defiance, she lunged forward, taking the first cultist by surprise. Her fist connected with his jaw, sending him stumbling backward. Rachel followed suit, her swift kicks catching another cultist off guard.

The fight was chaotic, the sounds of grunts and cries mixing with the crackling of the torches. Sarah and Rachel fought with everything they had, their backs pressed against each other as they held off the onslaught of cultists. The odds seemed insurmountable, but they refused to back down.

As Sarah swung a branch at a cultist, she caught a glimpse of something glinting in the moonlight. It was a knife, held by one of the cultists who had managed to sneak up behind her. With quick reflexes, Sarah twisted out of the way, narrowly avoiding the deadly blade. She could feel the adrenaline coursing through her veins, her senses heightened as she scanned their surroundings for any possible escape route.

With a quick nod to Rachel, they both broke away from the circle of cultists, sprinting through the trees with all the speed they could muster.

The cultists followed close behind, their chants growing louder with each passing moment. Sarah could feel her heart pounding in her chest, the fear of capture driving her forward.

They ran for what felt like miles, their lungs burning with exertion. The forest seemed to stretch on endlessly, the trees looming overhead like monsters ready to swallow them whole. Sarah's mind raced with thoughts of survival, of finding a way to outwit their pursuers and make it out alive.

As they stumbled upon a clearing, Sarah's heart sank. Before them stood a sheer cliff, the ground dropping away into a deep ravine below. The cultists had caught up to them, their torches casting eerie shadows on the rocky walls. There was nowhere left to run, no way to escape.

Sarah could see the flicker of torchlight in their eyes, a glint of fanaticism that sent shivers down her spine. But she refused to let fear consume her. With a fierce determination, she turned to Rachel, her eyes locking with hers in silent understanding.

We make our stand here, Sarah whispered, her voice steady despite the raging storm inside her. Rachel nodded in agreement, her face set in a mask of fierce resolve.

As the cultists closed in on them, Sarah took a deep breath, readying herself for the battle ahead. She could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on her, the sense of impending doom hanging heavy in the air. But she refused to give in to despair. With Rachel by her side, she would fight until her last breath.