As she fell, Rachel thought of her husband. If he were even alive, what could he have done in the mansion? Why did he sign in as a guest? Could he be trying to infiltrate the cult to get information? Did he hide, or was he dead before she even got to the mansion? She was uncomfortable with the answers her questions could’ve brought. Since she was now aware of the existence of monsters, who knows what else could be out there?

  Eventually, she hit the bottom of the chute and landed on a soft and moist surface. She grunted as she dug herself out of the pile of meat and reached for her torch to illuminate the room. To her horror, Rachel realised she had landed on a pile of dismembered limbs and jumped off the pile while frantically scraping bits of flesh that clung to her.

  Once she was clean, Rachel let out a heavy breath. Relieved that she had survived her encounter with the monster. But there was no time to rest. She needed to find Henry and escape. The longer she stayed in the mansion, the higher the chances that her husband would be hurt or killed.

  She picked up her camera from the ground and looked around the basement. Realising the place was far cleaner and well-kept compared to the other sections of the mansion, even with dismembered limbs placed at one end of the room.

  On the walls were murals and skulls placed at the centre of painted rune circles. The skulls seemed odd, as Rachel couldn’t figure out what species they belonged to. If she had to guess, she figured the cult made a human-goat hybrid and killed it for some kind of ritual. Perhaps the same ritual that created the monster that caused the disaster in the first place.

  Rachel looked back at the pile of limbs and noticed a pattern. Though the limbs were scattered around from her dropping on top of it, she could tell that they used to take the shape of an altar or something the cult would use for worship. Either to pray on, to hold sacred artefacts, or a mark of worship that only the most faithful would be allowed to see if they passed a test that challenged their stance on the mortal world.

  Her mind imagined what the cultist would’ve done at the altar. What exciting activity could be conjured by the depraved and degenerate. She wondered if she was one of the cultists, on her back with her legs spread open for the world to see while she bathed in blood.

  ‘No! Not now.’ Rachel shook her head, trying to ignore the thoughts that invaded her mind once more. ‘Come on, Rachel, think. What to do next?’

  She looked around the basement for something to help her. Fortunately, next to the murals was an office room with a working computer on a desk and a couch. Curious, she sat down to see if there was any information or documents she could look at to get an understanding of the cult.

  ‘Password?’ She shrugged at the computer’s prompt and typed 1234. To her luck, she had access to the computer. ‘Seems like not everyone is up to date with security.’

  The computer was barebones, only having a few files on the desktop. One held all the tax and financial documents, which she noticed the cult had some assets in US and Welsh company stocks. Something that could explain the cult owning the mansion and the art they commissioned.

  Another document stores all the security footage recordings that were captured from early 2013 to 2015. Rachel checked the latest recording to see what caused the creation of the monster but was disappointed that she could only find the earliest footage going back to January.

  Rachel played the video. It had no audio, but it showed footage of people going in and out of the basement. During January, the murals and altar of limbs weren’t there. Proving to her that they were a recent addition and perhaps tied to what created the monster.

  A lot of people went in and out, some naked, but most were fully clothed. One of the people at the centre of the basement was The Leader, standing at the corner and observing his flock like a shepherd examining his sheep to see who should be slaughtered for the harvest. She skipped a few hours, and The Leader remained at the same spot, motionless and observant of his flock.

  What if I were there? She imagined, seeing herself naked and walking alongside fellow naked members. Perhaps they were the ones who lost their limbs, so it could become the altar that she landed on. The idea of her limbs being severed with a hacksaw made her smirk with arousal. Rachel didn’t understand why, but she knew it felt right at the time.

  ‘You are perhaps wondering how it became like this?’ Rachel turned around to The Leader, looking over her with a pump-action shotgun in hand. He was calm, his face emotionless at the intruder who broke into his office. His short black hair was neatly cut and combed back, while his black suit had a blood splatter over his right collar.

  ‘You’re Henry’s wife?’ He raised a brow before walking over to take a seat on the couch at the other side of the room. ‘I thought I recognised someone. I didn’t expect a reporter to be here. You are looking for your husband, correct?’

  ‘That is correct,’ Rachel calmly replied. ‘I just want to see if he is safe and get him out of here.’

  The Lader smiled, appreciative that she had told him the truth as to why she was there. ‘Then, given your occupation, I think you also have a lot of questions as to what happened here. For you, I’ll be completely honest and only tell the truth. Unfortunately, I don’t have a lot of time to spare. I’ll answer only three questions. Anymore, and I’ll shoot you. Ask fewer questions, and I’ll shoot you. This isn’t a threat, just a way for me to see if you can follow basic instructions or not.’

  Rachel calmed her breath, her eyes stuck to the shotgun The Leader rested on his lap. ‘What happened here?’

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  ‘A fair question, though disappointing that you want to know right away.’ The Leader chuckled. ‘I and a few respected colleagues of mine wanted to experiment with something unorthodox. Mainly, we wanted to create life through extraordinary means. However, I made a mistake. My math was wrong, and the creation of the Inheritor didn’t go as planned. The creature you saw is a consequence of that mistake. What should’ve been obedient and easy to control became hostile the moment it drew breath. I and a few people tried to kill it, but it proved formidable. Even killed a few of my flagellants, it also didn’t help that some cult members fought to keep the beast alive, thinking it would bring about a golden age. However, the smartest among them hid when the creator broke free. Nearly everyone died when that creature went on a rampage, including my guest. A shame, but I can always try again once this all blows over.’

  ‘You staying here implies that the monster would die off on its own.’

  ‘Good observation.’ The Leader smiled, ‘yes, the Inheritor will die on its own in a few hours. Its body is unstable, and it will slowly rot away. You probably smelt it the second you set foot in the mansion. Sure, it is dangerous on its own, but unlike it, I have time on my side.’

  ‘But why create it in the first place? I struggle to see how anyone would have a use for that thing.’

  The Leader paused before he pulled up his sleeve to reveal a pentagram tattoo on his arm. ‘Believe in the supernatural? Maybe not before, but you sure do now. Monsters exist, magic is real, and the demonic walked alongside mankind for a very long time. What I want is to know how to harvest the power of the unknown for myself. But to do that, I need bodies. The establishment of a cult wasn’t the best approach to pursue power, but it is the easiest to recruit anyone into your flock and have willing members of the community to do whatever you want. Force isn’t necessary; all you need to do is show them the supernatural, and they will bow and pray to you. People want to believe in something more remarkable than themselves. It just so happens people see me as some sort of prophet of a made-up God.’

  Rachel frowned, seeing that his story had a gap in it. ‘Knowledge like that doesn’t come from nowhere.’

  ‘Correct, it didn’t. It came from Hell itself.’ The Leader examined Rachel’s expressions but sighed when she looked sceptical at his reveal. ‘I used to be an actor. Nothing big. Mostly did theatre gigs here and there. But one day, during my nightly walk, a book fell from the sky and landed right in front of me perfectly intact. Curious, I read the thing, and it opened my eyes. Before I flipped to the next page, a demon appeared before me. A literal, fire-breathing, demon.’ The Leader smiled to himself as he recalled that day. ‘I killed it, of course. Used its skull to perform more powerful spells with the aid of the book. Though I will admit that I lack knowledge of what is beyond the unnatural world, for I struggle to see the ecosystem of souls. All of that can be fixed with the right mindset and experimentation. It is why I allowed the cult to continue their degenerate acts, their collaboration is a good source to gain new test subjects.’

  Her eyes widen, realising that the monster above them was not the first time he had done this sort of thing. ‘Where is my husband?’

  He shook his head as he stood up. ‘Breathing, and closer than you think.’ The Leader gestured to her camera and torch. ‘Place everything on the table. Slowly.’

  Rachel complied, placing her camera and torch down before raising her hands. ‘That is all I brought with me.’

  ‘No, it isn’t,’ The Leader corrected. ‘Your clothes as well.’

  She grit her teeth while her body shook at the suggestion. As Rachel moved, The Leader raised his shotgun to his shoulder to demonstrate that he wasn’t playing around. Obey, or die, that was the only option she had. However, she knew her husband was there and alive. The best she could do was do what he wanted and hope she could meet him.

  ‘You don’t have to do this,’ Rachel pleaded as she removed her clothing.

  He watched her get naked before him. But besides taking pleasure in her vulnerability, he just watched her with an uninterested gaze. Like he was disgusted of her body.

  ‘No, I do.’ The Leader responded harshly. ‘I knew what I did led to this tragedy, and that you say that what I did is morally wrong. However, in the end, I want to make sure to correct that mistake when I try again. You will help me with that experiment to help me understand the truth of this world.’ He moved his shotgun. ‘Now turn around.’

  After she placed her belongings on the table, she turned around with her hands raised in the air. The Leader rested the barrel of his shotgun on her back while one hand rested on her shoulder. Without saying a word, he escorted her out of his office and into a different room on the other side of the basement.

  Behind the steel door was a mostly empty room with an LED light shining above a BDSM gyno chair.

  ‘Sit on it.’ The Leader ordered with a stern voice.

  Rachel, scared for her life, sat on the chair the way it was intended. Exposing herself further by spreading her legs and keeping still as the Leader strapped her down.

  ‘Don’t take this the wrong way, Rachel. This is the only item I have in my possession that can keep you in one spot. Just so I can deal with the problem at hand.’ He said before glaring at her sex. ‘A bit too mature and used for my next project. But it is better than nothing, and I think it will be far better than cultist honeyed cunt.’

  He casually walked out of the room, whistling before he closed the door and locked it. Leaving Rachel in the dark, alone, and unsure of her fate.

  ‘God… help me…’