You held the sobbing woman in your arms as Ghost kicked through the cellar door.

You looked from him to her. She was heavily pregnant but thin and gaunt. Her name was Mayrina, and her husband had joined a cult, giving her over to them so they could impregnate her to birth their "God".

You'd taken out the cult and were on your way to freeing her. If Ghost could just get the damn door open.

He huffed, drawing back his ax and slamming the blade into the lock. He looked over at you and the pregnant woman, feeling sick at the sight of her.

Her stomach was much too large for such a tiny woman. It almost looked like she was carrying triplets. It was bruised and distended, the bruising spreading up her ribs and down her hips. Dried blood flaked off of her, having once been symbols or runes. He couldn't imagine the nightmare she'd lived through.