Estimated reading time: 7 minutes
It starts with a hum, deep within the chest, that vibration that happens when a bass note hits just right. It’s the crisp scent of rain on sun-scorched pavement, or the feeling of a room warming up at the arrival of someone specific. It’s the feeling of coming home. It’s the feeling of finally being understood. And sometimes, “coming home” is just a nicely furnished prison.
In the world of my upcoming novel, Justine: An Eye for Vengeance (coming October 2026), seduction isn’t about an individual; it’s about an idea. It’s the romance between a starving soul and a predatory ideology. We picture cults as matching robes on a rural farm—and while those definitely make an appearance in my story—the modern version is often much slicker: well-lit, well-worded, and weirdly familiar. It’s a dark romance. It’s magic. It’s an arrow-hearted longing wrapped in thorns—where the deeper you lean into “love,” the more you start bleeding in places you can’t explain. We like to believe we’re too smart to fall for it, that we’d spot the daggers early. But what if the dagger is wrapped in silk? What if it sounds like a promise? What if it feels like relief?
In my Dark Mind Survival Guide (which you can grab for free by signing up for my newsletter), I’ve mapped out the 10 critical markers of manipulation. Today, I want to pull back the curtain on three that play a central role in the world of Justine.
Marker #3: The “Chosen” High: When Being Seen Becomes a Narcotic
Have you ever walked into a room feeling like just another face—another voice in the blur—and then someone locks on to you? And suddenly you’re not invisible. Not overlooked. Not ordinary. They don’t compliment your hair or your outfit—they compliment your potential. They name the greatness you’ve been trying not to hope for. They tell you you’re part of something bigger, older, necessary. This is Flag #3: The “Chosen” Feeling. In psychology, we call it love bombing. In real life, it feels like being crowned in secret.
The ultimate seduction.
The ultimate high.
The group doesn’t want you—they need you. They can’t do it without you. You’re not just a member, you’re a pillar. Who wouldn’t want this? Who wouldn’t want to be special? To be the answer to a question the world is too blind to ask? To feel destiny settle on your shoulders like a warm coat?
But here’s the noir part: if it takes the loss of autonomy for something to feel this good, then it’s not love. It’s not acceptance. It’s not being “chosen.” It’s being targeted. In Justine’s world (out in October 2026), “The Eye for Vengeance” isn’t only a concept—it’s a look. A leader’s look that catalogues your fears, reads your soft spots, and calls it all “potential.”
Marker #6: The “Yes” Ladder: The Slow Crawl Toward the Edge
But totalistic control doesn’t come about in an instant. No one wakes up one morning and gives their bank account and their sanity over to a stranger before breakfast. It happens one “yes” at a time. And this is Flag #6: The “Yes” Ladder. It begins innocently enough: a weekend retreat, a small donation to a worthy cause, a request to stop seeing a friend who “doesn’t support your growth.” And you can stop at any time. So you tell yourself. But the ladder only goes one way. And before you know it, there is no ground beneath your feet. You look around at the wreckage of your former life: the friends you gave up for, the hobbies you quit, the “old you” that the group assured you was broken beyond repair. It’s a rhythmic, hypnotic fall. You say “yes” to the community. You say “yes” to the mission. You say “yes” to the sacrifice. You say “yes” to the disassembling of your very self.
In my novel, I also explore this “Yes Ladder” in the context of rituals. There’s something comforting—almost cozy—about having someone else dictate exactly what to do (especially when life feels loud). But if choice gets removed, so does humanity. You become a tool in someone else’s kit, a specimen in someone else’s vial—and the story turns into the kind of psychological horror books love to build: the slow, careful unmaking.
Marker #1: Reality Theft: The Gaslight in the Dark
The final—and perhaps most deadly—flag is the one that denies you the truth of your own senses. Flag #1: Reality Theft. You may have experienced this as gaslighting, but in a cultic environment, it’s even more insidious. This is the group’s judgment that your perceptions of the past are wrong, your emotions are merely “projections,” and your intuition is a “traitor.” When someone steals your reality, they own you. They become the only source of truth in your life. If they say the sun is really blue, you start to question the color of light hitting your skin. If they say your family is toxic, you start to alter your recollections of childhood to fit their story. This is a sharp and cold unmaking of the self.
Why do we stay in these groups? Because the alternative is the void. If the group is wrong, then we weren’t really chosen. If the leader is a liar, then all we have suffered has been for nothing. But to admit the truth may be more terrifying than to stay in the lie. We stay because we have been assured that “Love is a Spell,” and we fear what happens when the spell is broken.
If this resonates with you—or if you’ve ever felt the pull of a group that promised all the answers—pause and check yourself. You are not a specimen. You are not a tool. I’ve spent a lot of time exploring these psychological pitfalls in my story, especially in the dark corners of Justine (out October 2026). It’s the same engine that powers a lot of thriller novels: the moment you realize the trap was built out of comfort.
The Reset: 3 Moves to Break the Spell
Are you in a ‘Dark Romance’ with an ideology? Here is how to test the air for poison in the next 24 hours:
- The “Script” Translation: Take a phrase you’ve used recently that feels “enlightened” or “group-aligned.” Write it down. Now, try to explain that same idea to a 10-year-old using only simple, messy, everyday words. If the idea loses its “magic” or starts to sound absurd without the group’s special vocabulary, you’re likely speaking a script, not your own truth.
- The 48-Hour Silence: Step away from the group’s rhythm—the chats, the meetings, the “vibration”—for 48 hours. Don’t announce it; just go quiet. Notice what happens to your internal state. If your “peace” turns into a withdrawal-like panic or a deep sense of guilt, you aren’t in a community; you’re in a cycle of dependency.
- Invite the “Ugly” Emotion: Most controlling groups reward “alignment” and “high-vibration joy.” For ten minutes today, sit with an “unapproved” feeling—anger, boredom, or skepticism. Don’t try to “fix” it or “align” it. If you feel like you’re committing a crime just by being bored, the walls of the prison are closer than you think.
Belonging does not require you to become invisible. Real belonging does not require you to become unmade.
If you want the full list of all 10 Red Flags, make sure to download the Dark Mind Survival Guide.
The most dangerous spells are the ones we cast on ourselves so we don’t see the thorns.