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The crypt was growing dark.

Haema crept across the floor, attempting to make as little noise as possible. The putrid smell in the air caused her to wince, and she struggled to suppress a gag. She had removed her shoes, now clutched in one hand; should she need to flee, she preferred achieving this without concern for stepping on slippery or sharp objects.

Her sense of sound seemed nonexistent for hours on end, but whether this was merely her paranoia was unknown. The longer she remained there, the more likely it appeared that someone would discover her presence. Every so often, she persuaded herself that success hinged solely on navigating the remaining portion of the room before making a timely exit.

An impasse soon presented itself, displaying three coffins at this chamber's rear: two sealed and one open, a corpse lying within. The cadaver was aged and withered, its skin resembling leather stretched across skeletal remains. While one eye socket was empty and decayed, the other contained a gem emitting a faint blue glow. A bronze chalice occupied the ground next to the body, and though it appeared valuable, Haema refrained from seizing it as the noise created upon picking it up could be potentially disruptive.

The door at the opposite end of the room emitted a slight creak as someone outside applied force against it, seemingly unaware of the wooden frame's rot. They leaned in to listen closely, their ear pressed against the deteriorating structure. Haema froze, her breath caught in her throat. If her breathing could be heard, her rampant heartbeat surely could as well. Her deepest fear was that whoever lurked nearby would discern the peculiarity of an open coffin amidst an otherwise vacant crypt…

Footsteps ceased only a few feet away from where Haema stood concealed behind one of the closed coffins. She questioned why anyone would stop in such a location, considering the possibility that they had detected something after all. Her eyes scanned the area in search of an improvised weapon—if attacked now, she could ill afford subtlety!

The footsteps soon resumed, initially slow and cautious but gaining speed as if the intruder decided they failed to find whatever they were seeking. They traversed past Haema at the room's far end, only to continue further into the crypt—leading one to question their inability to recognize two doors!

Perhaps nothing seemed unusual here; someone could have entered previously with expertise, or even bribed a lackey into guiding them to their intended destination. This eerie situation aligned with bizarre cult activity—Haema was privy to rumors for years about people engaging in peculiar acts under the cover of night, but none mentioned anything akin to her current predicament. She wondered what other secrets might lay hidden…

"I'm going to find out," Haema vowed softly under her breath. She cautiously approached the last location where she heard footsteps, unwilling to run now that whoever-it-was believed themselves alone. She crouched on her hands and knees to peer inconspicuously beneath a wooden coffin lid.

Two pairs of legs stood side by side: one donned black pants and polished boots (the man who must have guided his follower), the other wore gray pants and dusty brown boots (the individual having been led). Little else could be seen until they progressed forward—their shadows and reflections appeared on the stone walls and within an oval mirror mounted nearby at waist height. An identical faint blue glow emanated from within said coffin and its open lid, originating from a grotesquely hollow eye socket.

It required every bit of Haema's self-control to stifle a scream of revulsion at the sight within the casket. The corpse's head had been meticulously severed from the shoulders, displayed proudly beside its body inside the open coffin. Its hands were removed and placed tidily on either side of the body, arms resting flat against respective sides with upturned palms. The torso had been sliced open from sternum to pelvis, with ribs exposed through two holes carved into its chest where lungs should reside. Bloodied footprints adorned parts of the stomach lining, and what appeared to be intestines extended outward from the abdominal cavity like a belt wrapped around its midsection, ending abruptly halfway down the chest.

"What are you doing here?" a voice from behind Haema demanded suddenly as soon as the reflection of its owner appeared in the mirror mounted by another coffin. "Did you follow me?" he inquired accusingly upon noticing Haema's reflection beside his. He seemed surprised yet composed—a stark contrast to the reaction one would expect after unexpectedly discovering someone lurking in their crypt. His voice, however, bore an eerily familiar quality.

"That's not my fault!" another voice protested angrily several feet away from Haema's crouching form, concealed behind an occupied coffin. "I told you I couldn't help you anymore!"