Her name was Alexandra Galani, the friend of a friend, but everyone called her Lexi. I only saw her on three occasions before everything went sideways. Three. Fucking. Occasions. First, at my high school swing club, then in Psychology 301 during my undergrad, and the last time was about two years back at the University of Minnesota's dance club. She wasn't half-bad at either. But I've been told I have two left feet, so how would I know?

Every encounter we had always started and ended in small talk, just small talk. She was just a bookish girl with caramel hair, gapped teeth, and a passion for anthropology. You know, just a typical hard-working girl trying to make it through school. Through life. Through hardship.

But, then she disappeared a couple of weeks back. I remember the missing posters began populating the city. It sucks that she's missing, but I have a career, I thought as I'd pass by the photos. As for one of my good friends though, well— he thought otherwise. Knew her more than he should, especially for a married man.

Because he's living a better life after this mess, we'll call him James. And James took advantage of me, you'll see. All to look into the disappearance of his close "ex-friend." I couldn't have cared less about his love life. But what I regretfully bothered for were the rumors he heard surrounding her disappearances and its relevance to her... abnormal behavior.

I mean— before we begin the story, let's admit it, we all have that something that we're into. A thing that pulls us in no. A sub-conscious attraction. Sometimes we have it on our face for the world to see, and other times we keep it in the back of our skull, hidden from even ourselves. You might be into collecting bugs, you might be into BDSM, but what I'm into, my fellow friends is human behavior.

Can't even count the times how many serial killer documentaries, stalker articles, and real cult stories I've researched. Also Studying OCD, bi-polar, depression, anxiety, schizophrenia, and so much more. It's—what got me through graduate school and what made me a successful consultant. The oddities of the mind are just delicious.

Ah, yes.

So.

Delicious.

Enough of the ramblings. Let's get back to the discussion of James's "ex-friend." Instead of keeping my mouth shut, I left it open.

Open on April 23, 2008. 

"Can we talk about her again?" James asked.

Open in Bloomington, Minnesota, 

"Really?" I snickered

Open on a rainy, summer morning at the cozy Express Cafe. 

"Please, Liam?" he begged.

"Well," I sighed as the rain tapped calmly against the window. Was going to get him to shut up about Lexi. "We talked about this yesterday. From what you told me, she was experiencing weight loss, anti-social behavior, sleep deprivation, and irritability. It just sounds like she has some unchecked anxiety or depression." I sipped my decaf while James had his blended drink and a bagel. 

"It could be stress from family or work. People hit a low, you know. You and I both have had our lows too," I continued. "And sometimes—people leave town for a break." James smiled and looked nervously at a passing waitress and then back to me. He opened his mouth, ready to respond. "Actually," I held up my finger, stopping him. "Why are you still talking about her? You know Bridget hates—"

"No," he cut me off. "I keep telling ya', Lexi was nothing like this a few weeks ago. Her family is fine; she had gotten promoted some months back, good pay too. She's also been working on a promising project at the university. I—mean." he paused, holding his finger to his mouth.  "It makes no sense to me how she got this way an—"

"Okay! Still. This isn't news. We're repeating yesterday, James. Why are you so worried anyway?"

"Because that was yesterday. Today, I—found out something else. I heard a rumor this morning about the project. Something I thought you'd be interested in". He looked down as he continued. He had barely touched his drink at this point. It was miserably melting; like me. Not then of course, but now.

I raised an eyebrow and gestured for him to continue. "From what I was told, some members of a university project had meetings. Unusual, secretive, meetings. I'll give ya' a guess of who attended them."

"Okay? So?" I said, still failing to give a shit.

James leaned in close and whispered. "Supposedly involving some cult. Relating to some old book from ancient Greece."

"A cult and a book?" I smiled, for real this time. "Hm, could explain some of the symptoms."

"Exactly. I need your skills. You helped me out with the bitch that stalked me. You're good, Liam," he looked up at me, and I stared expectantly. "So, can you help me out? Please?" He pouted like he always did when he was desperate for something. But what he wanted was less critical to me. Here's what's important. But first...

Have you ever had a moment of your life that you look back on and no matter how long it's been, you shudder? Well, this was a prime example of that. Even pondering this incorrect response that I gave him makes my hair stand. Makes me have nightmares. Makes me wish I had died in the pond.

"Sure, where can I learn more?" I asked him with a stupid, fucking grin. Shuddering. Not then, but now and always.

Wrong god damn response.

I wasn't wise enough to say no.

Delicious behaviors. Please be wary of your vices. That's what's important.

"Really?" he pounded his fists on the table. " Thank you. Thank you so much. Just—one more thing. Ya' gotta promise me you won't mention this to Bri or the girls, K? You know how she is."

Yeah, I know how she is. The guy was worried about being caught. He should've been worried about something else.

Worst of all, it didn't take much time to ponder the response. The decision was set in stone somewhere between the mention of a cult and a book. Curiosity was going to drive me mad if I didn't know more about this potential case of a cult. I mean, I've been hired to assist detectives with serial killers and gangs, but this? Oh, this was a first in my career. But curiosity can also kill a cat, my fellow friends, or in my case— bring a fate that makes death look like a blessing.

I'm not sure what it is yet but for sure its worse than being hit by a car and left for dead only to end up drowning in a flash flood.

Or left starving in a desert and dying of food poisoning from a fermented vulture.

Or even being burned alive in a slow bake oven.

More on that later. Just know that the above would've been better. Yeah, much better.

I nodded to James, holding back an even more excitable grin. "Thanks! I really owe ya one," he bowed his head. I rolled my eyes, drinking more coffee. "Seriously, if anyone can help me find her, it's you," he said, waiting for a response. But my thoughts were elsewhere. Away from his thanks and gratitude, and in the clouds. 

Could be a disappointment but it also could be a chance. I had to see this book.

Yes, all originally for a book, not finding a girl.

Never did I go, "Oh! I'll find the witch, burn her, rescue Lexi, and save the day!" Nah, I wasn't like that, and it didn't go that way either.

I mean, would you have done something different for someone you barely knew? Sure there was a little chemistry in our encounters, but be honest with yourself. All those posters you see at your local department store of missing people, do you look for them?

If you do, good for you, but I sure didn't.

Anyways, James then reached his hand into his pocket after some moments of silence. The crinkling of parchment snapped me out of my thoughts. "I think you should start with Professor Miles Weber," he said. "He's in charge of the project. As for the book, well, here is the title. I don't know what the hell this means, but here it is" He passed me a post-it note.

Written on it, in his mediocre handwriting read, "Psíthyroi tou Spoudaíos Péran."

"Huh, I'm not one for Greek. Where did you get this?"

"From an article about the project. I'll text ya' the link later. It's on my computer."

"OK. And the rumors? Where did you hear them?"

"Some of Bri's friends, they know some people who are part of the project too. They're just as worried as I am."

"Hm. Okay. Is the professor part of the cult? What all did her friends know?"

"I don't know if he is and I don't know. I'll ask them and get back to you on that. I mean, it's a start, right?" He asked. I thought hard for a moment, unable to inquire further, I gulped the rest of my coffee and looked down at his melted frappe and untouched bagel, and then back to him.

"Yeah, a start," I said.

But in reality, it was the start of a mistake that cost the lives of many, a royally big clusterfuck.

But—at that moment, I guess it was time to be curious. To investigate. To meet this—professor.