Father Anderson remained silent as he studied the family photograph.
The elderly couple seated in the center didn’t look like captives or strangers dragged into the cannibals’ hideout.
Their relaxed posture suggested that this cabin—and the deformed killers standing behind them—had belonged to them.
He continued searching the room and soon found an old diary inside the dressing table.
A stack of opened envelopes rested beside it, though most of the letters had either been removed or destroyed.
Only a few damaged pages remained in the diary.
Despite the missing sections, the surviving entries were enough to reveal how the cannibal family had begun.
[…]
“The children are human too.
They are innocent.”
“Their bodies were altered by generations of inbreeding, but no one has the right to kill or mistreat them because of how they were born.
I still believe bringing them here was the right decision.”
[…]
“We are far from the city, but I have finally found some peace.
With Gray and me guiding them, the children have become much more obedient.
They are beginning to control their tempers.”
[…]
“I became sick, and now Gray has the same illness.”
“We are too weak to leave the mountains.
The children don’t understand the roads, and we have no way to obtain the medicine we need.”
[…]
“Gray is dead.”
“Breathing has become difficult, and I have been confined to bed for too long.
The children are growing restless because I can no longer spend time with them.”
[…]
“Gray, I’m frightened.”
“I keep wondering whether we made the wrong choice.”
[…]
The diary ended there.
Anderson slowly lowered the pages and looked at the smiling couple in the photograph.
A heavy feeling settled over him as the truth became clear.
The elderly pair had likely brought the deformed children into the wilderness to protect them from persecution and prevent them from hurting other people.
Through years of patient teaching, they had managed to control the children’s violent impulses.
Then illness took them both.
Without anyone capable of guiding or restraining them, the children gradually surrendered to their instincts.
Hunting animals became hunting travelers, and isolation transformed into generations of murder and cannibalism.
Anderson closed his eyes and made the sign of the cross.
“Amen.”
He had reached the correct conclusion.
[…]
[Hidden Objective Completed]
[Investigate the Origin of the Incident]
[Reward: 1 Point]
[…]
The notification faded as Anderson opened his eyes.
He placed the diary beside the photograph before turning toward the large canvas bag in the corner.
The valuables inside had been stolen from murdered travelers.
Watches, rings, necklaces, cash, and other expensive items filled the bag almost to the top.
Strictly speaking, none of it belonged to the cannibals.
Anderson planned to identify whatever could be returned later, but anything without a traceable owner could still serve a purpose.
His research, weapons, medicines, and supernatural equipment required considerable funding.
There were also people in his community who couldn’t afford medical treatment, food, or shelter.
He lifted the heavy bag with one hand.
“Oh my God!”
Jessie’s horrified cry came from the main room.
Hurried footsteps followed, then the unmistakable sound of someone vomiting outside the cabin.
Anderson shook his head and carried the bag through the doorway.
The dining room was enough to overwhelm anyone who hadn’t spent years dealing with demons and corpses.
Jessie was on her knees near the cabin steps, one hand pressed against her stomach.
She coughed several times and spat onto the dirt before trying to catch her breath.
“Are you all right?” Anderson asked.
“I’m fine,” she managed between coughs.
“I just…wasn’t prepared for what was inside.”
“That’s understandable.”
Anderson adjusted the bag over his shoulder and looked toward the rear of the cabin.
“Wait here.
I’m going to find a vehicle.”
Jessie immediately forced herself to stand.
“I’m coming with you.”
The cabin was now empty, but after everything she had experienced, remaining alone among the bodies was clearly impossible.
Anderson didn’t object and led her around the building.
The land behind the cabin opened into an even larger junkyard.
Rows of wrecked cars filled the clearing, many of them stripped down to bare frames.
Just selling the metal would have produced a small fortune.
They continued past the damaged vehicles until they found a second wooden structure beside a narrow dirt road.
The trail stretched deeper into the forest, almost invisible beneath the darkness.
Anderson remembered one of the diary entries.
We are too weak to leave.
His gaze shifted toward the closed building.
The elderly couple must have once owned a working vehicle.
Anderson strode forward and kicked the door.
Bang!
The wooden lock broke, and the entrance swung open.
Inside stood an old pickup truck.
Unlike the vehicles surrounding the cabin, this one appeared intact.
Its tires were still inflated, the body showed little damage, and the windshield hadn’t been shattered.
Jessie’s face lit up.
“Father, there’s a truck!”
“First, we find out whether it works.”
Anderson opened the driver’s door and examined the interior.
The key was still in the ignition, while the fuel gauge showed nearly half a tank.
That was promising.
He placed the stolen valuables and equipment behind the front seat before climbing behind the wheel.
If the engine failed, he might have to repair it or search the junkyard for another option.
Jessie leaned through the open passenger door.
“Do you think it’ll start?”
“We’ll find out whether God is still on our side.”
Anderson turned the key.
The engine coughed.
For one unpleasant second, it sounded as though it would die.
Then the pickup shuddered violently and came to life.
Jessie released a breathless laugh.
“It works!”
“It appears the Lord approves.” The source of this chapter is g.com.
She climbed into the passenger seat, and Anderson guided the truck out of the shed.
Its headlights illuminated the dirt path as they drove away from the cabin.
A single beam of light moved through the dense forest before gradually disappearing into the mountains.
Once they reached an area with cell service, Jessie called 911 and reported Carly’s location.
Anderson returned to the disabled Raptor as quickly as the old pickup allowed.
Carly was still alive when they reached the tree hollow.
Her condition had worsened, but the bandaging and medication had kept her stable.
Anderson carried her back to the roadside and remained with both women until emergency responders arrived.
Police officers soon followed the directions to the cabin.
The first armed team entered expecting to find a group of rural murderers.
Instead, they discovered a human slaughterhouse.
Several officers rushed back outside almost immediately.
Some bent over and vomited, while others stood frozen, unable to process the bodies, butchered remains, stolen vehicles, and years of evidence surrounding them.
The investigation would eventually connect the cabin to numerous disappearances across the region.
With the wrecked cars, human remains, and belongings taken from victims, the case was destined to become national news.
The full scale of the murders would shock the entire country.
By then, Anderson had returned to the highway where his damaged Raptor remained surrounded by police cruisers and ambulances.
Carly had been loaded into an ambulance and stabilized by paramedics.
Doctors would still need to treat the deep wound and replace the blood she had lost, but she was expected to survive.
Several expensive SUVs had also arrived.
Jessie’s family had sent private security personnel as soon as they learned where she was, while Carly’s relatives were already traveling to the nearest hospital.
Anderson stood beside the old pickup and looked at Jessie, who had washed most of the dirt and blood from her face.
She had changed into clean clothes provided by a paramedic and now sat in the passenger seat instead of joining her family’s security detail.
“I heard your family sent enough bodyguards to secure the entire highway,” Anderson said.
“Why aren’t you leaving with them?”
Jessie didn’t answer immediately.
She only looked at him with an unfamiliar light in her eyes.
Anderson frowned, unable to understand her expression.
“You’re safe now.
You don’t need to stay with me.”
He gestured toward the waiting SUVs.
“As for the payment Carly promised, you can transfer it to the church account after everything settles down.”
Jessie smiled.
“You trust us to pay you later?”
Anderson glanced at the line of luxury vehicles and professionally armed guards.
“I trust what I can see.
Your families clearly have enough money.”
Before he could say anything else, Jessie shifted across the bench seat and settled onto his lap.
Anderson stiffened as she rested her hands against his shoulders and looked down at him.
The fear that had dominated her face earlier was gone.
In its place was a mixture of gratitude, relief, and unmistakable attraction.
“A bank transfer might take a while,” she whispered.
“Maybe I should give you a little interest first.”
Anderson stared at her.
For once, the heavily armed priest who had faced demons, ghosts, and cannibal killers without hesitation had no immediate response.
Jessie leaned closer.
A single thought crossed Anderson’s mind.
Americans really are direct.
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