A Violent Welcome

Perhaps we'd taken too long interrogating our box-shaped captive. Because every step we took, through the sewers and then down into the mass of tunnels and caverns beneath the city, saw the heretics mount ambush after ambush.

We engaged them every time and left their bodies stacked up like cordwood before us. We were left wondering what would run out first: Our ammunition or space for their mutated corpses. Every firefight lasted seconds, perhaps a minute at the most, but each felt like hours.

The typical cultists are not a significant threat as they are untrained and die quickly in any stand-up fight. Most will point a weapon in the right direction and then keep pulling the trigger while standing in the open, believing their blind faith in the Darkness will keep them safe from harm.

Misplaced faith does not stop bullets.