SOMEHOW, SOMEWAY, OFELIA HAD ENDED UP IN A CULT. It wasn't a club, there was no way in hell it could be a club, and the teenager looked back on her choices with a bit of a jaded eye once she came to that conclusion. It made a lot of sense that this place was a cult and not a club, seeing as she didn't know of any clubs that happened to have graveyards.

Yes, it had been the graveyard and the many many graves inside it that had sort of watered down her idea that Deus Ex was a friendly little club where people killed each other to get ahead.

Okay so maybe the killing each other should have tipped her off that this place was bad ju-ju to start with but goddamnit Ofelia was stupid and liked to be positive over everything.

Except now her optimism had landed her in a cult. <******** should have seen it coming, what with the different chapters and the matching clothes and the weapons.

Getting clothing that matched had actually made her happy since she'd never had anything that nice before and the jacket kept her warm at night, but now that she thought that it might be part of a cult system she looked at it with the same jaded eye as she did the rest of the compound. The jacket had been taken off her waist as soon as she'd gotten back to her room from the mock-funeral and placed on her bed, all spread out to be seen. It smelled of sweat and blood, of snow and rot. The jacket had been with her the entire time and she remembered Candace saying that the jackets were super important.

Were they important because without them people could just run away from the cult? It wasn't like they'd tattoo'd her or anything or done something to her body that marked her as a cult member. She hadn't been asked to shave her head or sleep with a head honcho so. . . .

Ofelia came to think that everything she knew about cults came from really bad eighties movies. She might have to rethink some of her thoughts before it went of control but whatever, back to the topic at hand. The jacket was her link to the cult.

Maybe she should burn it.

Oh god what if she burned it and they made her have to pay for it?

She didn't have a job, not that she had even tried to look for one. Ofelia didn't exactly have the sort of set skills needed to work a proper job not to mention she though she'd be s**t in something like customer service. She was friendly, sure, but being friendly didn't always cover your a** when it came to doing a job ********, okay so burning the jacket was out of the question. She'd been told before as well that she needed to wear it at all times except when in her room so there wasn't the option of leaving it behind and running off when the time came.

The jacket got put back on, tied around her hips because Ofelia wasn't going to wear a cult symbol so openly on her back. Right now. She'd probably forget and wear it later but later wasn't right now so it would be all good.

What else was there that she could false accuse of linking the place as a cult? There had to be other things, other than clothes, and Ofelia tried to think as to what those horrible movies might have taught her about items. Was it the cell phone? Was the cell phone part of what connected them to the cult? Everyone had cell phones, just like they had jackets, and Ofelia had broken hers once to know what was inside.

The runes had been pretty but. . . maybe the pretty was what was brianwashing her into thinking she belonged here. (Never mind the fact she was asked to come and accepted all of her own accord for the desire of adventure). Also it was weird how the phones only worked with the other phones here and she couldn't connect to the internet or make any calls out to people. She could connect to Twitter (and was horrible at that) but when she'd tried to call a neighbor in order to call home there'd been nothing. The phones weren't there to allow them contact to the outside world, it was there to limit it. Ofelia only found the phones as a source of further paranoia.

She hated being paranoid and just standing around thinking wasn't answering any of her questions. She needed questions answered, she wanted questions answered, and the only way to do it would be to ask someone the questions and get it over with.

Ofelia knew people who could answer questions.

She knew people who told her to come to them if she had questions. They wouldn't lie to her, right? Or did members of cults lie to other members of cults to prevent them from knowing it really was a ******** it, Ofelia's head hurt.

She was going to go and find Jordan.