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ᴜɴᴅᴇʀᴄᴏᴠᴇʀ | ᴄᴜʟᴛʟᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ!ᴠᴏx x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ ᴀᴜ | ᴘᴀʀᴛ 1

ɴᴏᴛᴇꜱ: (MDNI) part one finally! haha i totally didnt forget i was rewriting this... haha... anyways its up now!!! enjoy!

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: You're a woman in the 1950s who's aspiring to be a journalist. However, it's hard to enter the workforce as a woman. Your boss presents you with the opportunity of a lifetime to do an undercover expose on a cult in your area! However, as you dive deeper into the church you get more than you bargained for.

ᴄᴡ: religious themes, cults, sexism, manipulation

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 4,212

ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀᴘᴏꜱᴛ!

So the situation's this, it's 1955, and you're trying to make a name for yourself in the journalism industry. You currently work for the New York Times! …as a secretary. Though you offer the same, if not better, credentials as the men who write "hard-hitting pieces", you were overlooked, as many women are in the workforce.

After all, “Why would you work when you can be a pretty face for everyone to see?”.

But, you were barely scraping by, so you were in no position to complain about where your income came from. Something's gotta pay the rent, even if it killed you to watch everyone doing your dream job. That's supposed to be you working! Not the under-qualified men who spend more time making trips up to your desk to flirt with you than actually doing their job.

You're currently perched on your chair, chin in hand, as you stare blankly at the rotary phone, waiting for it to ring. Your bored and uninterested expression seemed to say "Come over and condescend me!"— or at least that's what one douche seemed to think.

A cocky co-worker strides over to your desk, clad in a tacky blue suit and a coffee-stained tie. He stands in front of your desk and chuckles, "What's wrong, sweetheart?". Taking a deep breath, you restrain your frustration and smile, "Just waiting for the phone to ring.".

The man rests his elbows on your desk, "C'mon, where's that smile? You'd be so much prettier with one.". You bite the inside of your cheek, biting back your instinct to tell this guy off. Instead, you plaster on a strained smile. "There she is!" he chuckles, walking off to his desk.

As soon as he's out of sight, your smile drops instantly. "Stupid piece of fucking shit… hope he chokes on a fucking cock," you mutter to yourself, letting your anger simmer as you bounce your leg agitatedly.

The whole situation mulls over in your head, how could you allow your life to come to this? Reduced to your gender, working at a job where you're nothing but a pretty face… You wish things were different, but what could you do? Your eyes flicker to the head editor's office door that's practically calling your name.

You know that you're destined for more. What's the worst that could happen if you just ask? Well, you could get fired, but it’s not like there aren’t other jobs out there! Hesitantly, you get up from your chair and march over to the editor's office, knocking on the door with a shaky hand, "Mr. Anderson, sir?". "Come in," the familiar raspy voice responds.

Straightening out your skirt, you push the door open and smile. "Kitten," he exclaims, "what brings you in here? Dont'cha have phones to attend to?". You shake your head, "No, the line's empty as of now, I actually wanted to talk to you about something".

Taking a deep breath, you steel yourself for the moment ahead. This was your chance. Don't blow it. "Well," you begin, "remember when I interviewed here? I originally wanted to work here as a journalist.". The old man nods, leaning forward on his desk, and gives you an intimidating look. You swallow nervously, "Y-Yes, well, I wanted to follow up on that.".

"On what?" he asks skeptically. "On my position here at the company as a journalist, not a secretary," you state firmly, standing up straighter as you try not to let his intimidating stare get to you. Mr. Anderson sighs and leans back in his chair, his thumb and forefinger resting on his brow, "I don't understand, you're a fine secretary.". "I know," you defend, "but I wanna be more, I know I can be more than this! I went to college and was one of the only women to get accepted into the journalism program!".

Sighing softly, you plead with him, hoping he'll show a shred of humanity, "I can do this, I just need the opportunity.". He groans, "You're a pain in my ass sometimes.". "But," he reaches into a filing cabinet and hands you a file labeled "THE SIGNAL DOMINION", "you're very persistent and annoyin', so here.".

You grab the file, and your face lights up, "Thank you so much, sir! You won't regret this!". "I better not," he says while lighting a cigar. "I want you to write an exposé on a cult run by a man named Vaughn Oren Xavier, are you familiar with him?".

You shake your head no. "Doesn't matter," he dismisses. "Everything you need to know is in that file. Now I'll need you to go undercover for this, pretend your some type of damsel in distress that's looking for a new church or some crap, I dunno," he huffs out a puff of smoke, causing you to cough and waft the air in front of you.

"Don't be gettin' all high and mighty because I gave ya this piece though," he states while waving his cigar. "Yes, sir" you nod, "thank you.". He leans forward in his chair, his voice dropping to a menacing whisper, “And this stays between us, alright? If word gets out I’m offering this piece to a woman…”. You swallow nervously and nod, “I-I won’t tell anyone, I promise!”.

Walking out, you close the door softly behind you and skip happily to your desk. You set the file on your lap as you sit, squealing happily as you read the contents.

The gist of it was that some guy got people to join his cult by luring them in with charms and keeping them there through manipulation. Their leader, Vaughn, managed to escape the crimes for his obvious exploitation through his seemingly normal exterior— Authorities didn’t even bother with looking into it deeper. Plus, there wasn’t enough known about the cult to have a case anyway.

You spend the rest of the day mulling over the case at your desk while you work. Both excitement and trepidation filled you. For once in your life, the future of your career was in your hands.

_After work, you head home and plop onto your bed with a pen and paper, jotting down your plan for the exposé. Your cover would be that of a widow who had just recently lost her husband— a damsel who's looking to a higher power after such a great loss.

As for a career, you figured you could still be a secretary; just omit the fact that it's for the New York Times. For the entire night, you work on your plan, devising every piece of your fake identity to a tee until you eventually succumb to exhaustion. _

The morning light shines through your windows, causing you to stir. You lift your head off the notebook you had been jotting on all night and stretch your arms over your head. A smile stretches across your face, today is the start of your new career!

Springing out of bed, you rummage in your drawers for the perfect outfit for your new identity: a dark navy sheath dress that landed just below your knee and black babydoll heels. You styled your hair into classy victory rolls and smudged your makeup around your eyes just a tad to portray the look that you had been crying. After all, you'd just "lost your husband". Who wouldn't be crying?

You couldn’t quite wipe the smile off your face, though, and every time you tried, the fact that you’d finally be able to pursue your passion resurfaced in your brain, and alas, your smile came back.

—— You hop on the subway and, with the help of directions in the file, you are led to a seemingly normal church. In big, bold letters were the words "The Signal Dominion Church of Christ" plastered on the front of the building. The top of the building held a cross, and "Christ" was plastered in the name, so you assumed it was based on Christianity in one form or another.

You were never really a religious person, though you did have some background knowledge about it from being dragged to Sunday mass as a child. Maybe all those times your parents forced you to attend church would finally pay off!

Once you walk in, you seem to have caught the end of the service. The large church was littered with people; every seat was filled, and some even had to stand in the back. You observe the people in the back, trying to blend in. The whole thing just seemed so intimidating and bizarre that you couldn’t help but feel out of place.

The whole thing sent a shiver through your spine, a bad feeling settling in your stomach. You hadn’t even been here for five minutes, and your insides are already churning. In the corner of your vision, a figure catches your eye— A man in robes being ushered out by altar servers, Vaughn. Just as you’re about to approach him, a lady with a beaming smile approaches you.

"Hi!" she says. "Oh, uh, hello," you respond softly. I don't think I've seen you around. Are you new here?" she asks, her smile never faltering even for a second. "Oh yes, I just wanted to peek in, sorry," you reply shakily. You really hoped she bought your act. The woman chuckles and waves a dismissive hand, "No problem! What brings you to our little church?".

"Well, I uhm recently lost my husband from a car accident," you begin, mustering up a few fake tears that reluctantly roll down your cheek, "and it's just been really taxing on me. I've been pursuing local churches to hopefully lift that weight off me, and that's how I stumbled here I guess.".

"You poor thing," the woman puts a hand over her heart, "I'm sorry to hear that. But I’m so glad you’re here! My name's Evangeline, I'm an elder here at the church.". "Nice to meet you," you shake her hand gently, "I'm Y/N.". She takes your other hand in hers and holds it softly, confusion crossing your features as she does so, "Well, Y/N, I want to pray for you.".

"Oh! Alright, sure," you reply. Ah, so that’s what the hand-holding was for. She prays over you and your situation, ending it with an "Amen" crossing her heart, “In the name of the Father, and of the Sons, and of the Holy Spirit.”.

You open your eyes, “The sons-?” "How would you like to come to our service next week?” she interrupts, ignoring your inquiry. “Really? That's so kind, thank you, I'd be happy to," you smile back at her, briefly brushing off her dismissal of your question.

“Of course!” she beams, “We’re all for having new willing members! See you Sunday at 8, don’t be late!” You say your goodbyes and head back to your place, taking in what you have learned. Service starts at 8 am sharp, and you knew nothing about Vaughn.

When you get home, you kick off your heels and sit on your couch with a sigh. You'd barely learned anything, and you couldn't go undercover until the next week.

You arrive at work a few hours later, knocking on the editor's office before coming in. "What's the scoop?" he asks in his usual hoarse voice. "Well, I didn't learn too much… Seems to be based on trusting the cult leader, and the people seem nice-" you reveal, hoping that he wouldn't blame your lack of evidence on your gender.

Mr. Anderson sighs, "Look, Kitten, since it's your first time doing something like this I'm not gonna yell at'cha. But listen up, if you wanna go undercover, you've gotta be a little persistent. Do a bit of digging rather than sittin' on yer ass and waiting for the opportunity to present itself!". "I'm sorry, but-".

"No ‘buts'," he interrupts, "now get back to your desk and work.”. "Oh, about that, do I have a different desk now since I have a different position?" you ask. "Look, doll, this project stays between you and me. Any writin' gets done on your own time. You're still a secretary after all,” he explains bluntly.

“However,” he hesitantly continues, his voice dropping to a low whisper as his eyes scan the office to see if anyone’s listening, “if you do good on this assignment, I'll consider hirin' you full time," he explains, leaning back on his chair and waving you off. You nod and thank him for his time before exiting, walking back to your secretary's desk disheartened. ——

The next week slowly rolls by, filled with monotonous work and vague research you found from old news articles and stories— simply occupying yourself with tasks until the next service. As Sunday finally arrives, you feel a sense of hope— hope that today you’ll finally get somewhere in the investigation.

You put on a blue pinstripe dress paired with tan stockings and short white pump heels. With the help of curlers and a ton of gel, you fashion your hair into cute pin-up curls that frame your face just right. Once you finish dressing yourself up, you grab your keys and head out of the apartment.

You arrive at church early, making sure you get a good seat for today's service. As you walk in, you see the room already bustling with people eager to get a seat. “Jesus,” you mutter to yourself, “I figured it would’ve been empty this early…”.

In the corner of your eye, you see Evangeline waving her arms and patting the seat beside her. Upon walking up to her, she greets you with a big hug, eliciting an "oomph" from you at the sudden embrace. "I'm so happy you came!" she squeals excitedly. "Yeah, of course, thanks for saving me a spot," you reply.

As you sit down, she turns to look at you with a grin, "Today's supposed to be a great message!". "Oh yeah?" you say, "what's it about?". "Submission to Him!". Your eyebrow raises, "Him?" Who's-". She cuts you off by pointing up towards the sky, gesturing to God. "Ah, right sorry," you reply with a slight chuckle.

"Oh, I almost forgot to mention, Father Vox won't be preaching today, unfortunately," she mentions with a slight frown. 'Vox?' you think to yourself, you hadn't heard any mention of a Vox before. You thought Vaughn was the head honcho here, wouldn't the cult leader usually preach? "Who's Vox?" you ask quietly.

"Oh! He's the best," she gushes, "he's the lead preacher around here. He personally opened my eyes to the lies I was once forced to concede to.". Tilting your head, you speak in a confused tone, "The lies..?". Evangeline nods, "Yup, he taught me the meaning of life. If it weren't for him, I would still be living with my family!".

"Oh?"

"Mhm," she affirms, "my so-called family and friends all held me back from my true purpose.". A chill went down your spine. Your look of horror is met with Evangeline's placid expression. How could she be so calm? Doesn't she know she's being manipulated? "I'm sorry, what-" you're cut off by Evangeline shushing you. "It's starting!" she says with a wide grin.

Three altar servers walk down the aisle holding large candles, one wafting incense across the pews. Following behind them is a young man dressed in white vestments. The sacred white robes feature intricate gold patterns sewn into the stole that loosely drapes over the priest's shoulders.

Once the priest approaches the altar. He lifts his arms up in the air and everyone stands up from their seat. You follow suit and stand up with everyone else. The altar servers set down the candles and sit on a wooden bench behind the altar. Looking up from the large bible on the podium, the mass commences.

"The lord be with you," the substitute priest says. "And with your spirit," the room responds simultaneously.

You try to keep up with all the sayings, constantly falling behind at all the hymns and prayers. Shit, you really wished you had paid more attention in mass when you were younger.

After countless prayers and songs, you're finally allowed to sit. The priest smiles and crosses his heart, "Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit. Amen.". The members mutter an "amen" in response.

The priest walks in front of the aisle and claps his hands together with a big smile, "How are we doing, everyone? As you can tell, Father Vox couldn't join us today, he's taking a day to be reverent with God. I'll be stepping in his place for today, some of you may know me as John, but today I'll be known as Father John.".

Father John starts off the homily with a routine message, love God and all that stuff, it's the end of the sermon that seemed to rub you the wrong way.

The priest paces down the pews, each step impassioned as he preaches, "And therefore I ask you, the people of the signal dominion, to follow your shepherd. Let him guide you in a guide-less world full of corruption and sin.".

As your mind races, the priest starts to shout, "Has he not done enough for us?!". "No!" the congregation calls out, some people clapping and cheering. "So then, why do we disobey? Why do we avoid his divine enlightenment?! Look at all he's done for us, he saved you from suffering!".

You look around at the people in the pews, eyes fixed in admiration at the speaker, not even a hint of skepticism on their expression. A pit grows in your stomach, almost feeling angry at these people for buying into these lies.

Father John stops his tangent and makes his way back to the pew. Lifting his arms up, the people stand. "Let us pray," he commands calmly, his tranquil tone a stark contrast to his frustrated yell. He leads the church in a penitential prayer, which, like most of the prayers, you didn't know.

“Amen,” the congregation says in unison. Your misguided anger fades as the service ends.

"I'd now like to call upon the Elders of the church to come forward and offer prayer to those who need it," a few people emerge from the pews and walk to the front of the church. Evangeline turns to you, "I'll be up there if you need me.".

Without Evangeline, you didn't have an in with the church. You felt out of place, not sure what to do as people passed you by to receive prayer. Taking a breath, you calm down and mutter to yourself, "Be persistent,".

You couldn’t let it end with this, you still haven’t gotten any information yet! You have to do anything it takes— even if it means being a bit manipulative.

Without a second thought, you walk out of your row and go up to Evangeline, her ever-present bright smile plastered on her face. She takes your hands in hers, "I'm so glad you came up here. What would you like to pray about?".

"Well," you begin, racking your mind for what to say when suddenly, an idea pops up, a subtle smile creeping onto your face, "I was really hoping to be saved- like you were! By that guy you were talking about-".

Evangeline tilts her head, "You mean Father Vox?". You nod, eliciting a thoughtful look on her face, "He is taking time to be with God today… but, m-maybe if I told him your testimony, he would meet with you!". "You think so?" you ask hopefully, excitement filling the pit in your stomach. This could be your chance!

Evangeline nods hesitantly and takes both your hands in hers, "Let us pray. Dear God,-".

_ After the sermon, Evangeline led you upstairs to a sector of the church where only church officials and clergy were allowed. She approaches a door labeled "Father Vox" in big gold letters. "Wait here," she gestures towards a chair beside the door.

Biting her lip, she looks at you with uncertainty, “I-I don’t know if he’ll be up for visitors today…”. “It’s okay,” you respond, taking a seat in the chair she gestured to, “I’m just happy you're advocating for me like this.

Evangeline smiles, “Of course!”. With that, she knocks on the door beside her. "Come in," a deep voice responds. The door clicks shut, leaving you alone in the creepy church corridor.

You can hear the faint sound of an organ playing a hymn from downstairs, along with the ticking of the grandfather clock beside you. The room is cold, freezing almost, creating an atmosphere that’s thick with tension. You fixate your gaze on your lap, tapping your feet incessantly on the ground as you wait.

Time passes very slowly and you focus on fidgeting with your hands to occupy yourself. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the door swung open. Evangeline stands in the doorway, looking at you with a soft smile, "Father Vox would like to see you.". "Oh! Great!" You get up from your seat and nod at her while walking in.

Seated at the desk is a handsome man with black hair and two separate eye colors, one eye being blue and the other being brown. The man is dressed in navy blue vestments with red patterns sewn into the stole, similar to the floral patterns on Father John's robes.

You take a seat across from him, a tight-lipped grin stretching across your face to match his charming smile.

On his desk are books labeled "T.S.D Bible," along with other religious paraphernalia. Perched front and center on his is a name placard displaying the words, "Father Vaughn Oren Xavier - Head priest".

The pieces start to click together in your head. Vaughn Oren Xavier: V, O, X— That must be the Vox Evangeline was talking about! You're suddenly snapped out of your thoughts as he speaks.

"Well, you must be the famous Y/N I've been hearing about!" he finally says, his voice booming and upbeat. "That's me," you squeak out. "Elder Evangeline told me all about your story. I'm so sorry to hear that, my dear," he says, and though expressing his sympathy, his smile remains unwavering. "Thank you. It led me here, so, silver linings," you respond with a nervous chuckle. "And we're happy to welcome you with open arms!" he exclaims, his arms outstretched to emphasize his point.

You knit your hands together in your lap anxiously. "And I’m so grateful, but uh… I actually have a few questions about the Church.". "Oh?" he raises an eyebrow, "by all means, go ahead.".

"Well, Father Vox," you begin, "what does this church believe in exactly?". Vox smiles softly, "My dear, we here at Signal Dominion are our sector of Christianity. Are you familiar with Christianity?". You nod, "I was raised Catholic.". "And as of lately?" he inquires with a raised eyebrow. "Not so much," you admit sheepishly. How is he somehow making you feel guilty for this? You aren’t even actually interested in joining!

He nods and hums in acknowledgment, "No worries, we accept all that are willing to join.". "Good, good… What exactly makes this church different from a Christian church?" you ask, trying to be subtle with your questions. His smile seems to grow at your question, his tone full of confidence as he answers, "The Signal Dominion is special, the other denominations have lost their way, been too lax on God's plan for humanity.".

You lean forward in your chair, "And that plan is?". "Salvation, of course!" he grins. "Right," you exhale softly, "and how exactly do you get salvation?".

"Follow the church, and all will be revealed." Father Vox extends his hands to you, gesturing for you to hold them. You reach out and take his large, soft hands in yours tenatively.

"We can save you here, my child," he squeezes your hands, "you won't have to feel this dread upon you any longer. Don't go back to your old life, once you join the church, it's the first day of your eternal life, free of sin and stife.".

“I see… Just one more question,” you pry, “once you’re in the Church, what exactly happens? Are there rules I have to follow or maybe some guidebook on information you need to know?”. Vox’s smile twitches, and he laughs somewhat peevishly, “My dear! Slow down! Most of these little questions will be answered if you just join us. Come on, do what's best for you.”

"Okay," you reply softly, a soft blush coming across your face as you return to reality.

Vox prays over you once you, eyes fixed shut as he asks God to "take away your grief” and “guide you back on the right path”. Vox concludes the prayer with an "amen" and opens his eyes, gazing at you softly, "Come to our Wednesday night mass, I think you'll find it especially empowering.". "Oh, alright, I'd love to," you reply softly.

His hands linger on yours for a moment longer. "I'll see you Wednesday then.". You smile and nod goodbye before exiting his office.

Shutting the door behind you, you lean against it, breathing heavily as a smile stretches across your face. You did it, you're finally in the church.

yay ok done lmk if u wanna be tagged for other parts!

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