The acrid stench of death clung to the air as you ran with all your might. The stench is so unbearable that it’s almost impossible to think straight. Well, the fact that your whole family was just “purged” didn’t help matters in the slightest.

Your family’s obsession with prosthetics had started as just a light interest, eventually devolving into an unhealthy obsession as one by one, prosthetics replaced their body parts, more and more until there was more metal than flesh. You had never really been a big fan of prosthetics, especially with the Inquisitors roaming about, vehemently against these sorts of things, claiming them to be “heretical” and that such filth needed to be “purged.”

However, as much as you didn’t like prosthetics, you were not left with much of a choice. You had gotten into a freak accident, sustaining serious injuries, severe enough to have to have your left leg amputated. You wanted to live your life as normal, without prosthetics for your safety, but this life-changing injury became impossible to adjust to, eventually leading to you getting a prosthetic.

You lived in fear of Inquisitors ever since. However, you knew that it was inevitable you’d face the consequences one day for a prosthetic you didn’t even want. Those consequences came quicker than expected, as when you returned home, you were met with a pile of metal and flesh that was once your family. Before you could even begin to process anything, you heard that chilling whistling, knowing you needed to run, unless you wanted to be the next one added to the pile.

“You can’t run forever, you filthy heretic!”

The One Who Grips herself shouts from behind you. You know she’s right, as your life flashes before your eyes. Happy memories of your family come to mind, before their “heretical” change. These memories feel like a cruel mockery as they fade away, unwillingly replaced by the horrifying sound of Kromer’s deranged laughter, that’s alarmingly close now.