“RAAAGH!”
The axe-wielding cannibal only reacted after his companion’s headless body struck the ground.
He turned toward the gunshot and finally spotted Father Anderson standing behind the wrecked vehicles.
The priest’s broad frame looked no less imposing than his own, and the Winchester Model 1897 in Anderson’s hands was already loaded with another slug.
Before the cannibal could charge forward and bury the axe in his skull, Anderson pulled the trigger.
BOOM!
The slug struck the killer directly in the head.
Blood and bone burst into the air as the headless body collapsed beside the first, sending the heavy axe crashing against the dirt.
Anderson calmly worked the pump again.
Chak-chak.
He had to admit that the weapon was extremely satisfying to use.
Since becoming a priest, most of his battles had involved demons, spirits, or possessed victims, so he rarely had an opportunity to test a shotgun’s full destructive power against a physical enemy.
One shot, one kill.
Compared to that, pressing a crucifix against a screaming demon suddenly seemed far less efficient.
Anderson quickly restrained the increasingly dangerous direction of his thoughts and focused on the cabin entrance.
According to Jessie, she had seen four attackers in total.
Two had died near the Raptor, while the other two now lay outside the hideout.
That should have accounted for everyone.
Still, Anderson didn’t lower his guard.
The cabin remained silent after the two cannibals rushed outside.
No additional footsteps approached the broken doorway, and no arrows came from the surrounding forest.
“That’s all?”
A trace of disappointment appeared in Anderson’s eyes.
He gestured for Jessie to remain hidden behind the wrecked vehicles, then advanced toward the cabin.
His steps were slow and controlled, while the Winchester remained firmly aimed at the dark entrance.
As he drew closer, a wet chewing sound reached his ears.
Anderson stopped.
An unpleasant image immediately formed in his mind—someone sitting inside the cabin, calmly eating while the others were being killed outside.
“Too busy with dinner to investigate?”
He quickened his pace and stepped around the bodies.
The interior gradually came into view through the shattered doorway, and the scene inside made his expression harden.
A large wooden table occupied the center of the cabin.
Severed arms, legs, and other pieces of human remains had been piled across its filthy surface among stained plates and rusted utensils.
A deformed woman sat alone at the head of the table.
She appeared to be another member of the cannibal family.
Her face was twisted and asymmetrical, while greasy strands of hair hung around her scarred skin.
Both hands clutched a fresh human leg, which she continued biting into without reacting to the gunfire outside.
Anderson had no idea whose remains she was eating.
He didn’t want to know.
“Congratulations,” he said coldly.
“You’ve managed to disgust me.”
He stepped into the doorway and aimed the Winchester at her chest.
The female cannibal continued chewing.
Anderson pulled the trigger.
BOOM!
The slug struck the center of her torso, tearing open a massive wound and throwing blood and flesh across the table.
The impact rocked her backward, yet somehow she remained seated.
Her hands still held the severed leg.
Her jaw continued moving.
Chak-chak.
“You should have stayed down.”
He fired again.
BOOM!
The second blast destroyed her upper torso and neck.
What remained of the body finally collapsed over the table, knocking dishes and human remains onto the floor.
Silence settled over the cabin.
Anderson pumped the shotgun again and took several steps backward.
He drew a deep breath, only to immediately regret it when the smell of blood, smoke, rot, and burned flesh filled his lungs.
He turned his head and spat onto the ground.
After waiting for the mist of blood inside the doorway to settle, he looked toward the wrecked vehicles.
“Jessie, come out.
It’s over.”
The system had already confirmed it.
[Random Mission: Eliminate the Cannibal Killers—Completed]
[Mission Reward: 3 Points Issued]
[…]
The notification meant the hunting party responsible for the attacks had been eliminated.
If any other members of the clan remained elsewhere in the mountains, they weren’t part of this mission.
Jessie cautiously emerged from behind the rusted vehicles.
Her pistol remained raised as she approached the cabin, but her attention quickly shifted toward the two headless bodies outside.
“Father…did you really kill all of them by yourself?”
“Yes.”
Anderson gave a simple nod and entered the cabin.
Jessie remained outside for several seconds, staring at the dead cannibals.
She recognized their clothing and weapons immediately.
These were the creatures who had hunted her friends, mutilated their bodies, and treated their suffering like entertainment.
Her hands began trembling.
Then she raised the pistol.
Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
Several rounds struck one of the motionless bodies.
Jessie continued pulling the trigger until the slide locked open.
Tears streamed down her face as she stared at the corpse, caught between grief, rage, and the satisfaction of finally being able to strike back.
Anderson glanced over his shoulder but didn’t stop her.
The cannibal was already dead, and Jessie needed some way to release the emotions that had been building since the massacre began.
Firing into a corpse was wasteful, but far less dangerous than allowing that hatred to remain trapped inside her.
Once the gun was empty, Jessie lowered it.
Anderson turned away and examined the cabin.
Only one word came to mind.
Disgusting.
The blood-covered dining table was merely the beginning.
The surrounding floorboards were stained dark from years of butchering, while the walls were decorated with stolen tools, animal skulls, and objects taken from victims.
The nearby kitchen was even worse.
A large barrel stood beside the counter, filled with cloudy liquid and pieces of unidentified meat.
Boning knives, meat cleavers, drills, and sharpened hooks had been arranged nearby like ordinary cooking utensils.
A filthy sink overflowed with intestines and scraps of flesh.
Anderson even noticed several human eyes resting near the drain before deciding he had seen enough.
He pressed his lips together and walked toward an adjoining room.
His main purpose was to find transportation, learn more about the killers, and determine whether Chris Flynn or any other survivors remained nearby.
Investigating the source of unusual incidents could also produce additional rewards.
The system behaved unpredictably.
Missions appeared without warning, and rewards sometimes came from actions Anderson hadn’t expected to matter, such as releasing the spirits trapped in the Perron farmhouse.
Understanding the cannibal family’s origin might trigger something similar.
The next room was messy but less horrifying than the main cabin.
There were no severed limbs scattered across the floor, and the smell of blood was slightly weaker.
A large canvas bag rested in the right corner.
Its partially open top revealed gold jewelry, watches, rings, wallets, and other valuables taken from previous victims.
The collection was large enough to suggest that the cannibals had been hunting travelers for years.
Anderson studied it briefly.
“What would people like you even do with jewelry?”
The killers lived in isolation and rarely interacted with normal society.
They had no obvious use for expensive watches or gold necklaces, yet they had collected them carefully rather than throwing them away.
Perhaps the valuables were trophies.
Anderson didn’t touch the bag yet.
Something on the opposite side of the room had caught his attention.
Several photographs rested on a battered dresser.
Some were framed, while others had been scattered carelessly across the surface.
Anderson walked over and picked up the nearest picture.
It showed several members of the cannibal family standing in front of the cabin.
Their deformed faces were twisted into wide grins as they looked toward the camera.
Another photograph showed them beside a dead deer.
A third captured them posing around a wrecked vehicle, proudly displaying weapons and objects taken from its occupants.
The images were disturbing, but they also proved that someone had been taking photographs of the family over many years.
Anderson continued sorting through them until he found a larger family portrait.
His expression changed.
An elderly couple sat in the center of the photograph.
Both wore ordinary rural clothing and smiled calmly at the camera, while the deformed killers stood obediently behind them in a neat row.
If Anderson hadn’t known what the family did, the picture might have looked strangely warm.
The elderly man rested both hands on a walking cane.
The woman beside him wore a simple dress and held an infant wrapped in a blanket.
Unlike the cannibals standing behind them, the couple appeared completely normal.
Their faces showed no obvious deformities.
More importantly, their eyes were clear and intelligent.
These weren’t confused old people being held captive by monsters.
Their relaxed posture and satisfied smiles suggested authority, familiarity, and complete acceptance of what stood behind them.
Anderson studied the photograph carefully.
The relationship between the couple and the cannibals was clearly important.
They could have been the parents, grandparents, caretakers, or even the people responsible for creating and protecting the clan.
Whatever the truth was, the cannibals hadn’t simply appeared in the mountains on their own.
Someone had raised them.
Someone had taught them to hunt.
And someone may have spent years helping them hide the bodies.
Father Anderson turned the photograph over.
Several names and a date had been written on the back.
His eyes narrowed.
The hunting party might be dead, but this family’s story was far from over.
End of Chapter 19
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