Back inside the church, in another room covered in stone and tangled with vines, Sister Rose stood silently. The walls were lined with crawling vegetation, and like the room Donald had seen earlier, pods dangled from the ceiling, gently swaying. In the center of the room was another gaping hole, the same kind that had swallowed Donald earlier.
Sister Rose's expression was far from pleased. Standing beside her was the pastor, a strange smile still plastered on his face as he stared down into the hole.
"What a shame," he said, his voice soft yet strangely cheerful. "What a loss."
Sister Rose's face tightened with frustration. "It took years to build this sanctum. Countless fleshy sacrifices to birth more children, to carry on Mother Nature's will."
She folded her arms, staring down at the pit with a cold, calculating gaze.
