The dirty gang of bikers was tired from the hour of hiking through the woods, but felt refreshed when they were finally able to stop. They knelt on the edge of the woods surrounding the massive temple. While it bore a passing resemblance to conventional Christian churches in America, no one who got as close as they were would make the mistake. A twisting, vaguely cone-shaped spire rose above the structure. It was a frog-like gargoyle rising up from the roof, stretching itself upwards to claw the sky with one of his fists. It looked as though it had man’s head gripped tightly in its lower paw.

Instantly, each one of the men envisioned his own head in that paw. Vinnie’s mind was filled with fear, respect and revulsion before finally settling on the intoxicating flavor of acceptance and yearning for imminent death. While the rest froze, Vinnie took the first step onto the muddy clearing. The marble temple was coated in a dark green film that bore more than a passing resemblance to kelp rotting on the beach.

A wave of vibration swept through the ground and then through the air as a massive gong sounded somewhere inside. Vinnie crept farther forwards, towards the nearest window. The huge stained glass depicted large frog-like men embracing naked men and women and swimming with them. The style was incredibly complex and repulsive to the eye. Vinnie had to make the conscious effort to look at it. His companions faired no better. They kept finding themselves staring away from it and walking in a direction other than they started out.

The combination of the thick mud sucking at their feet and their inability to walk in a straight line to the window made the short walk take much longer than they thought it would. The closer they got to it, the harder it was to gaze upon it. The glass blocks inside the window were like disfigured scales of a dying fish. They seemed to bulge and twist the closer they got to it. While none of them could bring themselves to stare at it continuously, it seemed to change each time they glanced at it.

Finally, Clark could stand it no longer and screamed out loud. The trio of bikers next to him froze and longed to be anywhere but next to him as he leveled his shotgun at the window and blasted it. None of them could stand to stare at the window to see the impact, but the next glance each dared to take revealed that the window showed no damage. Another piercing scream ripped out of Clark’s mouth as he fired over and over, his shotgun booming into the night.

Wave after wave of vibrations rattled the ground, heralding frantic gonging from inside. The clacking of Clark pumping his empty shotgun reminded the rest of the gang that they were not helpless. Not yet. August turned away from the window and charged towards the back door of the church. Bizarre writing was scattered around the wooden portal and the sense that this was a horrible idea poured into him.

Six breaths. Fifteen blinks.

August’s shoulder pounded into the door, wrenching it open, startling a thin cloaked figure inside. His unblinking rage guided his fists into the cultist, slamming her to the floor. Her feminine cry ripped him back into the past as he stood over the dying body of his wife, bloodied with his own hands. Her glittering green eyes accused him of her gory murder. Tears rushed to his eyes and he dropped to his knees, reaching towards her. She sobbed and pulled herself backwards, fleeing him. No! It’s not right! It wasn’t me! This isn’t how it happened! Please forgive me! I didn’t do this to you!

An explosion off to his left revealed the truth; the female cultist had risen to her feet and was ready to slit his throat before her skull was shattered by lead. Vinnie’s smoking snub nose had broken her spell, leaving August staring uncomprehendingly at the dead woman who was clearly not his wife in front of him.

“It was a trick. They’ll get inside your head and fuck with you. Get the fuck up!”
“My wife…”

Vinnie slapped August across the face.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” August’s pistol cleared its holster and began rising towards Vinnie.

“Get pissed off and stay pissed off, Gus! Fear is their weapon. Anger will keep you sane.”
“I thought you said you didn’t remember what happened.” August’s pistol remained fixed on Vinnie.
“I’m starting to.”

He pushed past August, into a kitchen filled with ancient cookware and a bubbling pot fed by a wood fireplace. It gave off a putrid fishy aroma. Vinnie seized a burning log and carried it in front of him, letting the makeshift torch lead his way. He heard the hollow gulping of a shotgun being fed and turned back towards the door to see his compatriots following him in, Clark reloading.

He turned back to the front in time to see a shadow twirl across the wall in the next room. His legs bunched under him and he dove across the threshold. His hand flicked the log away as soon as his chest cleared the doorway, sending the burning missile into the face of another hooded cultist. A wet growl rumbled out of his mouth as it frantically shook the flames away. Before he could bring his long dagger back to bear on Vinnie, his chest burst twice as searing copper cleared the way for lead to come to a rest inside him.

Vinnie’s eyes grew wide as he got to his feet and retrieved his log. He stood in the middle of a tall hallway. From the light and pews, it looked as though the main chamber was just ahead. A few more steps and I can light this place on fire. This is going even better than I thought. They’re stuck in the Middle Ages. They’re not ready for guns! Ha!

A whistle ripped both Vinnie’s log and confidence away. He looked up to see a balcony the defied his mind. It was both sideways and above him. The cultist on it appeared to be standing at a right angle to him. The cultist cocked his arm back and let fly with another dart. Vinnie threw himself backwards, but the dart refused a straight path and stabbed deep into his left shoulder. Red pain detonated inside Vinnie and he dropped to the ground. His pistol clattered to the ground and he looked across the room as the impossible balcony seemed to shift and draw closer.

August’s pistol thundered twice, shattering the railing near the cultist.

“What the fuck?” August stared in disgust as his bullets flew elsewhere than he had aimed. The cultist skipped backwards or upwards away from him and readied another dart to throw. His semi-automatic barked once more, before being joined by the booming explosion of Clark’s shotgun. The hooded figure yelped in pain and dropped the dart, which skittered across the ceiling. He clutched his wounded arm and ran off, as another burst of gunfire clawed the wall and ceiling behind him.

“What the fuck was that? That mother fucker was on the fucking ceiling!” Clark lowered his shotgun and began pushing shells into it.
“It looked like he was on the fucking wall to me.” Jack stared nervously at the dark on the ceiling, expecting it to fall on one of them.

“Your pathetic understanding of science fails you!” A larger man clad in ornate robes stood in the doorway to the main chamber, croaking out his insults. He pushed the hood from his head, revealing his massive greenish head, with unblinking bulging eyes. His skin appeared to be covered in scabs. “You and your people are foolish to trust in the so called ‘Laws’ of motion and energy. Your people have no idea how the world really works.”

“You want to see how a shotgun really works?” Clark barked back.
“Why don’t you just give up? Two of you are already mine. I can smell how you’re marked.” The watery, rumbling voice of the cultist responded.
“FUCK YOU!” Vinnie and August spit out, as their guns yelled the rest of their replies. The rest of the gang’s retort followed as Clark and Jack’s weapons pounded out flames and lead.

The cultist remained in front of them, growling a gurgling low laugh. The bullets and shot went right through him, leaving him completely untouched. He began to glide forwards, his robe faintly touching the floor.

“He’s going to take you. You’ve lost. You’ll be mine. MINE! I’ve won, you stupid human,” the alien inside Vinnie shouted with glee, as his limbs flooded with fear, hurriedly trying to reload. Without any chance of escape or victory, there was only one way to still beat the monster within and he still needed a loaded gun for it.

But only one bullet.