Chapter 69 The Knox
The Knox
Who dares enter on this sacred night?
There is an intruder in the mix. An imposter. Someone who accessed my back entrance and then descended into the cellar. One who clearly possesses knowledge of the connection between my building and the servants’ quarters. One who wishes to remain unseen, in the shadows, wearing the mask and cape.
But there is no such thing as anonymity here.
The intruder shall remain locked in the cellar for the foreseeable future. The members will eventually chance upon the intruder—or they will not. Starvation is a painfully long, drawn-out death.
It is not the first time an outsider has attempted to breach initiation. Every few decades or so, there is a reckless individual who must be taught a lesson.
Word of mouth of their demise is an excellent future deterrent.
There shall be no interferences, nothing to hinder the initiation ceremony. It is underway as I speak. The procession has advanced from the parlor down to the basement, a convoy marching in time to an ancient Chinese drum.
The first scroll is being unraveled, the Bowels. Soon enough, prospective members shall perform the Sacrifice and await their membership fate.
The ammonia-tinged vapors of opium have already begun to permeate the air throughout my building, and I embrace them like a long-lost friend. Finally, the basement room has reverted to its original heathen intent.
Everything is exactly how it should be.