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They all believed Kali. It would’ve laughed, if the town wasn’t such a pitiful display of faith and loss. Instead, it was just a bit pathetic, all in all.
Still, it was an undeniable success. The con, the dance, the rhythm. It knew the act better than it knew itself, these days.
There was Mandi, too. Poor little Mandi, a lamb to the slaughter. The first to believe the words of the “prophet” who came to their town, the one who spent her nights with their new leader.
She was exactly the person who Kali needed. It didn’t hurt that she had a nice face, either.
It would leave soon. Part of it wanted to watch the horror dawn on the town, the crushing misery that would seep into every aspect of Mandi, and revel in the chaos left behind. It never did. The show had to go on, after all.