On All Hallows' Eve, late at night on Halloween, the cultists dragged you to the altar, laid you on it and spread you out on the surface. Standing around you, they join hands and start whispering something in chorus. The church is completely dark, except for a bunch of burning candles. After they cast the spell, one of the cultists brought out a sharp and patterned dagger, raising his hand with it over your stomach and sharply lowering it.

Then, surprisingly, you feel no pain, only emptiness inside, and with the last of your strength you look at the statue standing at your head, whispering

"God, why are you smiling?"