4 – Depravity

The group awoke early the next morning and pressed on quickly, as Morrill had suggested. They had been traveling without incident for several miles, when a large, dilapidated mansion rose out of the ground in the distance. The expedition hung back, while Dusk and Donnovan were set up on a hill, both looking through the scopes of their rifles, examining every inch of the mansion.

"Well… I see an old tripwire." Dusk said.

"Where?" Donnovan asked, panning his rifle across the building.

"Look about five feet ahead of the front door. See that mailbox?"

"Oh, yeah, yeah. There's the line. Looks old, though."

"Just might mean someone got the hint and stopped coming around here."

"I dunno…" Donnovan said. "I still think we should check it out."

"Alright… I'm staying out here, though." Dusk said. "Anyone going inside should probably put armor on… Who the hell knows what's in there."

"Good call." Donnovan turned and wave for the group to move forward. They stopped just behind the hill, still out of sight as he strode over to them.

"What's the plan?" Yearling asked.

"We're gonna check the house out." Donnovan said, dragging his power armor off one of the Brahmin. "Lucy, you wanna help Dusk spot?"

"Sure." Lucy said, grabbing a pair of binoculars and jogging over to Dusk.

"Vargas, breaching and clearing's your thing, right?"

"Yeah, want me to lead?" He asked, also grabbing his power armor pack.

"Please do." Donnovan nodded. "This is your area of expertise."

"So… I take it Donnovan's in… I need two more volunteers." Vargas said, looking at the group. Cross raised her hand, as did a few others, including, somewhat reluctantly, Sarah. "Cross and… Uh… Lyons." They began strapping into their power armor.

"Alright." Vargas said, adjusting his helmet. "The rest of you, take positions along the rocks, or something you can hide behind. Only Dusk has permission to fire freely. The rest of you, wait for a command." The assembled group nodded. "Okay, my group, let's go."

Vargas led the way down the hill, leaning back so as not to fall forward. Dust rose and a few rocks rolled down the hill in the wake of the four travelers' descent. Donnovan briefly moved ahead and disconnected the trip wire trap that Dusk had pointed out a few minutes before. He looked up on the ridge where Dusk and Lucy were. Her hand was raised in a thumbs up. She then put her eye to the scope of her rifle, and pulled the bolt back.

"Alright. Stack up. Donnovan, second left, Sarah, right. Cross, you're right behind Donnovan." Vargas commanded in a loud whisper. The group did as they were told, ready. Vargas put his hand on the door handle, and twisted. It was unlocked, surprisingly, and the group entered the house quietly. There was no resistance, and they found themselves in a dust-filled hall.

"All clear." Vargas called. The group repeated his words. A voice could be heard, drifting through the house, followed by a low chanting. The group exchanged glances before slowly moving down the hall in formation. The hall emptied into a living room, except it looked more like a chapel.

Pews were lined in perfectly, with many people sitting in them, their heads bowed, hidden under hoods. Tapestries displaying strange icons hung on the walls, and in the front of the room, a small stage was set up. A man in white robes flecked with red and yellow dots stood, his arms raised, his head also hidden by a hood. Behind him, a body was nailed to a cross, the man's stomach cut open, his intestines hanging out. Vargas gagged briefly, but managed to keep from throwing up.

"And through the strength of the transitional dead, we shall find our salvation." The man in the front called out. He had a loud, carrying voice.

"We shall find our salvation." The entire congregation repeated.

"This is kind of impressive…" Sarah stated.

"Yeah, in the creepy cult sort of way." Donnovan added. "Look at that corpse."

"Ah! Do we have new members to our flock?" The man turned, his face still concealed in shadow.

"Not quite. We apologize for intruding. We are only travelers passing through." Vargas called to the leader.

"That is quite alright. Curiosity is the gift of God."

"Uh… Sure." Vargas said. "We'll… just be leaving now."

"Please, stay and observe for a minute." The leader stated, and motioned for one of the people in the crowd. The figure walked over to the intestines hanging from the body nailed to the wall, and kneeled down. "Our practices will help us attain salvation. Go ahead, Jonathan." The follower, Jonathan, reached out, grabbed one of the intestines hanging down, and unexpectedly took a large bite out of it.

"Oh Christ." Vargas turned back into the hall, ripped off his helmet, and puked. Everyone else was horrified.

"Did… Did he just-?" Donnovan was about to ask, when the body on the wall gave a terrible groan of pain.

"He's ALIVE!" Sarah yelled.

"Yes, the creator provides us with passing sacrifices." The leader explained calmly.

"You're fucking sick!" Donnovan said, aghast. "Put the poor bastard out of his misery if you're going to be practicing rituals like that!"

"The sacrifice must be in transit to the next life in order for the effect to be complete." The leader stated.

"Kill him now, or we will." Cross threatened.

"I am sorry, but we cannot." The leader began. "We-"

*BANG*

A singe round from Donnovan's AK-47 dug into the body's head, killing the sacrifice. In unison, all of the figures heads turned to look at the travelers. It was extremely unsettling to the group, and they all gripped their weapons tightly, Vargas rapidly putting his helmet back on, coughing as he did so.

"You have destroyed the sacrifice!" The leader yelled, his eyes wide. "You will become the new one!" He pulled his hood down to reveal an extremely disfigured face. One eye was missing, and his skin was pale, stretched tight across his skull. His shallow cheeks were stretched thin as he yelled. "String them up, my family. We must honor the Lord and Savior!" The congregation stood up and with a deafening roar, surged towards the group of travelers.

"Shit! OPEN FIRE! Targets free!" Varags yelled. The volley of bullets from the group tore into the charging cultists, the front few falling. As they did so, a window to the right burst open, and the deafening roar of Eugene could be heard, as the rounds pouring from the minigun toppled the cultists like wheat to a scythe.

Donnovan's rifle ran out, and a silence filled the air. Dust and pieces of paper floated to the floor, and the smell of sulfur mixed with blood lingered in the air. No one dared to speak, until Sarah bravely broke the silence.

"Wow… Just wow."

"Well that went well." Donnovan said. He walked over to the window and looked out. Glade stood there at the ready, holding Eugene, the barrels of which were smoking. "Thanks."

"Yeah, no problem. I figured you guys might want backup after I saw how many people were inside through that damn window. I-"

"IN THE NAME OF THE LORD, DIE!" the leader, bloodied and bruised, screamed, rising from the pile of bodies, holding a massive warhammer. He swung back, and in the distance, a loudcrack of a rifle could be heard. A quick gust of air flew inches from Donnovan's head. A bullet dug into the man's chest, which, combined with his weight thrown back by the warhammer, slammed him onto the pile of bodies. Donnovan and Glade were frozen in shock, until Glade turned in the direction of a hill, on which Donnovan could see Dusk and Lucy perched.

"Are you fucking crazy!" Glade screamed. "You could've killed me!"

"You're welcome, assholes!" came Dusk's distant reply. He whirled back around. Donnovan walked back over to his group. "Now what?"

"We might as well take a look around now." Vargas suggested. "Not like these people will make use of anything here now."

"Alright." Sarah said. "I'll check the upstairs."

"I'll come with you." Cross said, and the two women disappeared into the back hallways.

"Watch yourselves," Vargas called after them.

"I'll check the kitchen." Donnovan said, and followed the halls of the mansion, passing by side rooms and closets, until he arrived at his destination. His mind was still thinking about what had just happened. He, along with a few others, had gunned down a massive group of unarmed people… After witnessing one of them eat the organs of a still living man. He'd seen cannibalism in the Wasteland, but not like this. His thoughts were interrupted as the floorboard made a hollow sound. He stopped and looked at his feet. A brief line could be seen, separating a part of the floor. He bent down and examined it, his gloved hands brushing the dust off of what was unmistakably a trap door. He found a small dent in the boards, and managed to remove a piece of wood on the door, revealing a small latch. He wrenched the door open, and flipped on his helmet light, revealing a set of stone steps leading down. Yet again, he heard voices, this time extremely close by. These voices, however, were exclamations of pain and misery. His hands found a light switch, and he flipped it on. The lights came on in the room, and Donnovan blanched at the sight in front of him. Splayed out all across the stone floor were ten extremely skinny, living skeletons of former human beings, both men and women, moaning in pain. They looked as if they had been down here for a long time. Their emaciated bodies could barely move, and they couldn't even drag themselves across the floor. They just lay there, groaning in agony. Their dry, empty eyes looked at Donnovan. Most of them gasped in fear, attempting to move away from him with what strength they had. One of them, however, seemed to show recognition in his face.

"Br… Br… Brotttthhherhooood." He managed to rasp. "Brothhhhherhood…"

Donnovan couldn't speak. He simply nodded at the man addressing him, while the others still looked on in horror.

"Killl…." The man rasped. "Kill ussss. Please…. Agony… Pain…. Can't fix… us…"

Donnovan just stood there, rooted in place. This was beyond suffering. This was an existence of pure agony caused by the depths of human depravity. These emaciated figures reminded him of pictures of the Holocaust he had read about back in the Vault. His mind was reeling as he stared at the scene.

"Killl. Please… Hurt…" The man said. Finally, with massive regret, Donnovan replaced the clip in his AK-47. Seeing this, another of the prisoners nodded, motioning to herself. Though he had his helmet on, a single tear ran down Donnovan's cheek as he lifted his rifle, aiming at the head of the man addressing him.

"Bless… you…" The man choked. Donnovan simply nodded as he squeezed the trigger.

*BLAM*

The gunshot seemed to echo for an eternity as the man's head hit the floor, hard. Still choked up, Donnovan stepped to another prisoner, aiming at her head. She nodded, putting her hands together, pleading him. He squeezed the trigger.

*BLAM*

The process repeated itself…

*BLAM*

And with every gunshot…

*BLAM*

The battle-hardened Donnovan twitched…

*BLAM*

A pang of pain hit his heart…

*BLAM*

As each of the prisoners were killed…

*BLAM*

Time seemed to slow…

*BLAM*

As each life was extinguished…

*BLAM*

Each shot more disturbing than the last…

*BLAM*

The last prisoner died, and Donnovan hung his head, looking at their bodies. He turned and marched back up the stairs, trying with all of his might to keep his nerves together. As he exited the trap door, Vargas, Cross, and Sarah had run into the kitchen.

"What happened?" Sarah asked. Donnovan simply walked past the group, unable to speak, his heart heavy. His eyes welling up with tears, he shoved open the doors to the mansion. Instead of going back to the group, he headed to the right, out of sight of the expedition. He wrenched off his helmet and dropped it onto the ground, a small cloud of dust rising in its wake. He pressed one hand against the side of the mansion, leaned his forehead against the wall, and began to weep openly.