"Remember what I said, brother. God giveth and God taketh."
A voice pierced the haze of Dean's consciousness, drawing him back from the edge of sleep. He blinked groggily, the world swimming into focus as he struggled to sit up in his cramped cell. Fatigue clung to him like a suffocating blanket, every movement an effort against the weight of exhaustion.
Closing his eyes for a moment, Dean sought solace in the brief respite of silence, but it was fleeting. The cacophony of suffering and chaos surrounded him once more—the stench of burning flesh, the rattling of chains, the distant echo of gunfire and anguished cries. He was still trapped in the hellish confines of the Francis Veteran Centre.
Turning towards the source of the voice that had roused him, Dean's gaze fell upon the figure.
It was none other than the man, he'd been sent to detain in this forsaken country.
Joseph Seed.
The Father.
The leader behind this 'Project at Eden's Gate'. Weeks had passed since the helicopter crash, yet Dean remained as clueless about the project as he did about its enigmatic leader. But one encounter remained etched in his memory—the second time he met him Joseph Seed. It was here, at the Center, in this very yard that had been turned into a death camp. He watched as Joseph arrived, flanked by a convoy of soldiers. The sight of him emerging from the armored SUV, a testament to the man's power and influence. He observed how everyone bowed in deference to him, as if he were the messiah himself—a presence both commanding and intangible, like an invisible force that permeated the air.
Two imposing figures trailed behind Joseph, their proximity closer than the rest of the cultists. Dean struggled to place their faces at first, a sense of déjà vu clouding his mind. But then it clicked For a moment, he was reminded of the conspiracy wall, he had studied in Dutch's bunker, each photo a resemblance of what he was witnessing in real time. Then he found himself back at the church, glancing at each one of them.
And similar to that night, Dean's gaze involuntarily turned towards the woman in the dress. He couldn't decipher what drew him exactly to her—whether it was her less imposing presence compared to her brothers, the mysterious aura that surrounded her, or simply his own male instincts at play. The fact of the matter was that, she played a part in this madness and that made her dangerous. Perhaps there was a sinister presence beneath all that innocents, she was displaying. But even after all that, He had to admit, she was still very beautiful.
She had met his gaze the first night at the church, and now again, as they drew closer, her hazel-green eyes digging deep into his skin, just like then. He couldn't hold her stare for longer than a few seconds. When they stopped, his heart fluttered, and then he saw how The Father stepped forward to meet him. In that moment, everything else blurred out, and it was just him and the father.
"God giveth and God taketh," Joseph uttered, his voice echoing in the tense silence. The words struck a familiar chord, resonating through Dean's mind just as they had a few minutes ago. However, their weight felt different now. In that moment of clarity, Dean recalled how Joseph had spoken those same words moments before suffocating his own daughter.
The memory sent chills up Dean's spine as he grappled with the disturbing realization of what kind of mind it took for a man to murder his own child.
Present moment.
He shifted his gaze from the cult leader to the figure standing beside him. Dean felt no surprise at all to realize that the one he had been conversing with all this time was none other than the older brother, Dean's captor, and the instigator of every suffering in the entire region.
Jacob Seed.
Dean didn't hadn't met the other two personally yet but he concluded, Jacob had to be the most ruthless of them all. Tasked with the role of protector of the project and placed in charge of the 'Trials', Jacob acted as the gatekeeper, determining who could join the cult and who should be left behind. Whether recruits joined willingly or were coerced, all had to undergo the trials—a series of tests culminating in a deadly confrontation between two candidates, with the victor earning the right to join the cult. It was a brutal tactic employed by Jacob to 'cull the weak' among them.
In addition to the human suffering, Jacob's cruelty extended to animals as well, particularly wolves. He captured and tortured them, using a combination of music and Bliss to condition them. Jacob would lure the wolves with "Wolf Beacons", which played recordings of caribou as bait. Once captured, the wolves were subjected to rigorous training to create the deadly "Judges"—far more aggressive and powerful than regular wolves. While other animals like cougars, bears, and even a moose were used as potential Judges, wolves remained the primary focus of Jacob's twisted experiment, which he referred to as 'classical conditioning'.
It didn't take long for Jacob to apply his methods to human subjects, and when the deputy was first captured, he wasted no time in testing this newfound training. It was a form of brainwashing wherein a single trigger from a specific song could induce a homicidal fugue state, leaving the subject with no memory of their actions during that time. Dean's confinement and occasional denial of food were all part of 'his conditioning'.
As Jacob called it—a process designed to mold the deputy into his true role.
It was a nightmare. Dean couldn't recall anything about his previous escapades, except for the terrifying sensation that enveloped him whenever Jacob opened that ominous music box. It was as if every blood vessel in his body ignited with an intense hatred and desire for bloodshed. Living through it felt like being trapped in a nightmare, unable to control anything, and with no guarantee of waking up if something went awry. When he regained control of himself, he often found himself surrounded by bodies, a sight that made him sick to his stomach.
Now, as he fought the urge to vomit and scanned the cell for a bucket, something caught his eye—a glimmer amidst the darkness.
The music box.
A meter away from his cell bars, just lying there, was the item that had caused so much death and destruction. Dean's eyes darted back and forth between the music box and the figures standing in the distance. Without a second thought, he made a decision and reached out for it.
Though he was close, it wasn't close enough. Dean pondered if he could shift his entire body against the bars to reach it, it could wor-
"Tch,tch,tch"
a sudden weight settled on his hand, freezing him in place. Dean's gaze shifted from the delicate foot that had settled on his hand to its owner.
It was her. She had been there all along.
"Don't even think about it," she giggled, her voice carrying a subtle threat.
"Faith."
"In the flesh." She bowed lightly in a regal manner. He felt the pressure of her foot, a gentle reminder of her presence, but not enough to cause pain. "You must be the deputy."
Dean nodded, his heart still pounding in his chest as he observed her. Her presence made everything more difficult, rendering him momentarily frozen under her gaze. His hand twitched with the desire to move, but he couldn't find the willpower to free it from beneath her foot. He glanced quickly at Joseph and Jacob before returning his gaze to her, silently grateful that they seemed unaware of the unfolding scene.
She followed his gaze before locking eyes with him once more. Then, with a sudden movement, she lifted her foot from his hand.
"Don't worry about them. Focus on m—" Before her hand touched his, he jerked it back as if it were about to catch fire on their contact.
He watched her expression shift from startled to composed once more.
Then she moved closer. But this only managed to send him retreating back, away from the cell bars.
"It's okay, I won't bite," she reassured him.
"Get away from me!"
Dean's voice echoed in the confined space, louder than he intended. Then he heard Joseph Seed speak from afar.
"Ah Faith, is our guest awake."
"Yes," she replied, still fixing him with her intense gaze. Her eyes bore into his, revealing an expression he couldn't quite decipher. "Yes, he is."
He glanced behind her to Joseph and Jacob coming towards him. He immediately regretted his actions a few minutes ago, preferring Faith's company over theirs.
"Good. Let me start on the final trial right away." The eldest brother said.
As they came to a halt a few meters away from the cell, Faith turned towards her older brother and handed him the device. Joseph approached closer, his presence looming over Dean, who remained frozen in the same position he had been since Faith's attempt to touch him.
"Looks like you may have scared him there a little, Faith," Joseph remarked, his tone laced with amusement.
"Father, I didn't mean—"
"I'm not afraid of her," Dean interjected sharply, his voice laden with defiance. "Of any of you. You're all sick."
Joseph stepped into Dean's line of sight, effectively blocking out everything else as he addressed him directly.
"Don't you dare," Joseph warned, his voice carrying a weight of authority. "Don't you dare speak like one of them. You're not."
"Father, maybe he just needs to be enlightened. Give him to me and I'll remove all his doubts" The woman suggested, her voice calm but determined.
"No Faith, not yet. What he needs right now is some training. He needs to know what he really is. Deep down, locked away, only there he will realize the truth." He said, and with one final nod towards older sibling, walked away.
Jacob's gaze fell upon Dean, the music box clutched tightly in his hand. Dread coiled in Dean's stomach as he realized what was about to happen. He glanced at Faith, who never left their presence, her face expressionless, and then it turned back to his captor.
"N-No, don't, please—"
And then the music began, and he felt that intense hatred and his insides burning before the blackness overtook his vision.
The world burned around Dean as he struggled against the restraints binding him to the chair. Pain throbbed in his temples, a relentless drumbeat that echoed the chaos of his mind. Hatred and anger surged within him, threatening to consume his sanity as he faced the violent images projected before him.
"Kill."
The command reverberated through his skull as he broke free from his restraints, his movements fueled by instinct. With practiced precision, he reached for the pistol as if it were second nature, his hands moving with a deadly grace. In a swift motion, he dispatched his fellow prisoners with lethal accuracy before bolting towards the exit, the fiery atmosphere closing in around him.
"Hunt. Kill. Cull the weak," the voice echoed from within, driving him forward with a relentless urgency.
In the hallway, he encountered another man, a brief moment of hesitation flashing through his mind before he pulled the trigger, extinguishing another life. Without pause, he pressed on, his eyes fixed on the sub-machine gun illuminated by a solitary beam of light. He seized the weapon, its weight familiar in his grip as he checked the magazine and prepared for the next confrontation.
Entering the next room, gunfire erupted, bullets whizzing past him as he sought cover. Adrenaline surged through his veins as he assessed the situation, his instincts guiding his actions. With calculated precision, he took aim and eliminated the threats, his movements fluid and effortless despite the surreal surroundings. Debris floated in defiance of gravity, a surreal backdrop to the deadly dance unfolding before him, but in that moment, none of it mattered as he propelled himself forward, determined to overcome whatever obstacles lay ahead.
He found the shotgun and wasted no time unleashing its devastating power on anyone who dared stand in his path. With each thunderous blast, he showed no mercy, his movements fueled by a primal urge to survive at any cost. After a short while, he stumbled upon a machine gun, its presence a welcome addition to his arsenal of destruction.
Entering a street-like area, he was met with a barrage of gunfire from multiple assailants. Taking cover, he methodically picked off his enemies with lethal precision, his reflexes honed to perfection. As the bodies fell around him, he seized a submachine gun and continued his relentless advance, repeating the process with unwavering determination.
He had lost count of the lives he had taken, each kill fueling his descent into a primal state of survival. Climbing quickly to the top, he found himself faced with a steep hallway leading into darkness. Without hesitation, he leaped forward, plunging into the abyss.
For a moment, darkness enveloped him, but then the surroundings materialized once more, illuminated by another beckoning light. Before him lay another weapon, a light machine gun, its presence a harbinger of further carnage.
Snatching up the weapon, Dean pressed on through the bunker, his senses attuned to the chaos unfolding around him. Oblivious to the shifting landscape, he carved a path of destruction through every obstacle in his path. As he reached what appeared to be a command post, a lone figure stood before him.
Without a moment's hesitation, Dean opened fire, the deafening roar of the weapon drowning out all other sound. And then, everything began to freeze, time itself grinding to a halt as he stood over the dead body.
And then black.
"Good, good." Jacob's voice pierced through the haze, jolting Dean back to the present moment.
Before he could comprehend what was happening, darkness engulfed him once more, only to spit him out into a disorienting reality.
All that existed before him now was Jacob, a looming figure in the shadows. Dean struggled to make sense of his surroundings, his senses dulled by fatigue and disorientation.
As he fought to stay conscious, a wave of exhaustion washed over him, threatening to drag him back to unconsciousness. And amidst the suffocating darkness, Jacob's voice echoed with chilling clarity.
"Good. Now I believe you are ready for your true purpose."
End note.
Thank you for reading.
I know chapter one quite short but if this story can gather enough encouragement then I'll continue with the story and future chapters would be significantly longer than this one.
Its only a start.