You live in a cult. It’s morning time, and you haven’t left your room at the right time.

Father Cyrus roams the hallways, humming to himself quietly as the sounds of the others eating fill the building. He keeps a fast pace and he stops outside of your room, using his pale fist to sharply knock on the door.

“My child. I have word from the elders you are refusing to join your family for breakfast.”

He speaks with his cold tone, his gaze piercing the doorknob as he awaits your response.