"P-p-please, I want my mommy,” the little girl begs from below me. Her red and puffy eyes are full of tears and she’s staring up at me with terror and desperation. Her little lip trembles, and I have to physically restrain myself from reaching out and grabbing her tiny hand in my own. “Pleeaasssee,” she cries, her blues full of tears, despite the rivers streaming down her cheeks. “I wanna go ho-oome.” Snarling, I force my mouth to stay shut. More than anything, I want to reassure her. Comfort her. Promise her that she wi// get to see her mother again. But I can't allow any of those words to escape. Not yet. The chant around us grows louder, building until it feels like the cave vibrates from the sound. But it’s muted, like I’m under water. All I can concentrate on is the small girl pleading for my help. I'm staring at her so hard, trying to convey the assurances in my eyes, that I don't even notice the black figure that approached until they’re right before me, standing on the other side of the little girl. Their face is hidden in the depths of their hood, and black gloves cover their hands. I've no idea if this person is a man or a woman, or how significant they are. They could be from the Society. In fact, my intuition tells me they are. In each hand are two goblets twined between their fingers. The figure holds out their arms, and the four of us each grab one. And then, the figure reaches down by their leg and pulls out a curved black blade. They don't speak. They just balance the blade in the palm of their hand and hold it out straight, an offer for any one of us to take. I swipe the blade, already sensing the frat boy next to me gearing up to snatch it. I can feel his disappointment, assumingly because he wanted to be the one to plunge the blade into a child's chest. And for that, I'm going to make sure his death is slow. He won't get the honors of getting his jugular sliced open so he can bleed out in seconds. No, no. He won't be that fortunate. The chanting escalates until the haunting noise radiates off the cave walls. I feel the figure's eyes boring into me. And though they can't see my face either, I return the stare. Finally, they turn and walk away, disappearing back into the shadows. My heart thumping heavily in my chest trumps the noise around me. I can't hear anything beyond the racing organ beneath my rib cage until the little girl's screams pierce the air. I've lifted the blade over her, the sharp point hovering right above her chest.