The man stood and turned to look at the intruder. The boy sat there, quivering. He stares at her for a long moment, then speaks. His voice is a hiss, like air leaking from a damaged pipe, as he whispers one word, "Purifying," and with that, he takes a long knife blade from its sheathe at his waste and stabs the boy in the gut with it. He gasps, unable to move, but able to feel the pain. He was still alive - the shot wouldn't kill him immediately, nor was it meant to do so. He starts breathing heavily as the stone beneath his feet begins to move. The man laughs a wretched cackle, then yells, "Get her! Bring her to me!" the cultists turn around, as one, and begin to charge at her. A faceless, writing, black mass, moving to envelop her.