It would seem for most folks the road less travelled leads to fortune and happiness. But for one young couple the road less travelled takes them beyond anything they’ve ever seen before. This is the story of their love, and of a fate perhaps worse than death.

ily drove the car. It was her turn after Jon’s twelve-hour stint through the mountain back roads yesterday. The sun had risen two hours prior, and the heavenly rays burst through the densely packed pines on the eastern peaks. The young woman gingerly guided the vehicle along the winding road, crisp air flowing through the open windows, bringing waves of sleepy peace over the young couple.

They were beautiful people who had enjoyed an idyllic life, spending their halcyon days of their youth together in a whitewashed purlieu of the upper crust. They had married as soon as they were able. Jon arranged their honeymoon to be an ambitious year-long journey through the country, funded in no small part by the deep coffers of his father’s burgeoning investment company.

Lily looked at her husband, his dark brown hair whipping in the cool air flooding through the lowered windows. His sleepy gaze met her sparkling blue eyes and they shared a tender smile.

The moment was broken when Lily suddenly asked: “Would you still love me if I looked like this?” and she contorted her face, eyes bulging and teeth bared as the skin around her mouth stretched tight, and the tendons on her neck bulged. Her words slurried together as she wagged her tongue in and out.

“Or what about when I’m old and wrinkly?”

“Oh god!” Jon laughed as he shrank back in mock disgust. “Of course I would. I would never leave you.”

Lily’s face snapped back to its usual beautiful form.

“Right answer.”

Suddenly a sharp “Ow!” escaped Jon’s lips.

“What’s wrong?” Lily’s soft voice took on a concerned edge.

“My ear just popped, must be the pressure changing.”

“Oh!” Lily giggled, “here, I’ve got some bubble gum in the glove compartment. Will you give me a piece too?”

“Of course.” Jon popped open the box, shoving aside a few napkins and assorted CD cases to get at the small packet.

For the next hour they burned through the pack of sugary gum, seeing who could blow the largest bubble, laughing at the ridiculous sizes they could achieve.

Laughter suddenly turned to screams as Lily swerved off the narrow road in her distraction.

The sedan struck a loose guardrail, bursting through easily. The car tumbled down the side of the mountain, violently tossing their helpless bodies about in their seats as airbags deployed, glass shards flying through the cab.

Moments later it all ended, the vehicle’s fall broken by a large tree jutting through a flat rock which stuck out at odd angles from the cliffside.

Lily regained consciousness first, anxiously wiping tears and blood from her face. Jon swore repeatedly as he clutched a dislocated arm. The car had thankfully landed right side up. Lily began frantically unbuckling herself, leaning across to undo her husband’s harness once she was free.

Lily managed to extricate herself from the automobile by climbing out her window and balancing on the rock outcrop in which the car was firmly wedged. She pulled a cardigan from the back seat and handed it to Jon, helping him tie it as a makeshift sling before he attempted to climb out.

“Can you make it up there?” Lily’s shaky voice belied her urge to cry.

“I’m sure I can as long as I have something to grab hold of. I have to. ”

They’d have to climb some fifteen feet above to reach their goal. They conquered this obstacle slowly, grabbing whatever they could for stability, keeping their bodies close to the steep incline and praying the soft earth would hold their feet.

The passage of time felt endless as they ascended, fear’s grip tightening like a serpent around their hearts.

A few eternal minutes later they reached the pinnacle.

A new dread awaited. Jon’s cell phone refused any outgoing calls. Out of service, read the screen.

They walked in silence, side by side, for several miles, eventually coming upon a sign which read: Salvation Assembly, 0.5 miles, next right.

Salvation. At last.

ll was still as they trudged the steep path to the Assembly. Crisp air kissed their sweat-soaked faces, breathing in the scent of pine and wet earth into their nostrils. The forest was different now. It seemed to transform before their eyes. What was beauty and peace viewed from the window of their car was now a foreboding wall of shadow, murmuring fateful secrets. Above they could hear the mountains whisper timeless ruminations, like old kings presiding over life and death.

“Do you think if there were a god, he’d be angry with us?” Lily asked.

“What do you mean?” Jon was bewildered. Lily never talked like this. She had dropped her faith years ago. “You know there’s no such thing, despite what we were told as kids. There's no proof.”

“I know, but I mean, this whole situation feels weird to me. I can’t describe it. It's a fear—a sort of knowing fear I’ve never felt before. Like something very angry is standing behind me waiting to do the unspeakable.”

Lily’s eyes were wide, and she drew close to Jon as their aching legs carried them higher.

“I'm sure it's just the shock from crashing. I know it feels like an act of God, but these things just happen sometimes. A pure accident.”

“Yes, you’re right, honey.” She paused, tears in her eyes.

“Oh this is awful! If I’d have paid attention you wouldn't have...and it’s all my fault!”

Lily cried, her emotions finally catching up.

“No, no, it isn’t! It was an easy mistake, anyone would have made it. Here—come here…” Jon held his wife as she buried her little head in his good shoulder, grasping his torso tightly as she sobbed. She was exceptionally quick to take on the blame for everything, a self-deprecating quirk which stemmed from her strict upbringing.

He stroked her tousled hair and kissed her ivory forehead. “We will be alright,” he whispered.

She wouldn’t say so then, but Jon knew the fear of fate was strong in her. She had mentioned it before a few times in deep conversations. It was not simply dying she feared, but the hell that awaited the apostate. This belief was set deep in her psyche, deeper than all others. No matter what the argument, the uncertainty of what was beyond the veil never ceased to terrify Lily.

Their last mile felt like five as the road’s incline grew steeper with every step. Exhaustion had fully set in by the time they reached the door of the small chapel.

The Salvation Assembly was in what looked to be a traditional white-painted chapel constructed on a tight budget. The squat structure was propped up on a thick concrete block base, with bug-eaten wood paneling wrapping its sides. Around the warped metal steeple an aging roof sagged, covered in moss. Despite the obvious wear, the church looked quite sturdy, owing to the well-laid foundation.

Jon and Lily felt a wave of relief as the scent of old wood greeted them.

“Here goes nothing.” Lily approached the door, hoping it would open. It did, slowly, the weight of the oak door heavy as she held it open for her husband.

“Surely there's a phone here, or someone we could talk to.” Jon’s voice had taken on an irritated rasp, the pain in his shoulder pounding through his thin frame.

Tired and dazed as they entered Salvation, they failed to notice the figure who sauntered out from behind the old altar—a short, ancient-looking bulbous man with prominent tumorous growths on his body. He stood at a distance, watching them, one good eye nestled under a bulging brow. His lips parted and he called out to them with a voice that sounded as if it hadn’t been used in a very long time.

“Welcome!”

Jon and Lily whipped around and nearly fell over at the sight of the little man.

He chuckled.

“I understand you may be put off, but I am a friend. I’m the assistant preacher here, believe it or not. I consider my condition to be a blessing. I am but clay for the potter’s hands, as I see it.”

Lily smiled. Who was she to judge?

“I’m Lily, this is Jon. We’re on our honeymoon, but we had a wreck. Do you have a phone?”

“Ah, well. I’m afraid we don’t believe in the use of phones in our house of worship. No use for them up here, as the divine calls the sheep in for us.”

He noticed Lily and Jon’s countenance drop.

“But,” said the assistant preacher. “There is one of us who can give you a ride. They will be here tomorrow morning. Until then, I insist you stay and rest up. There’s an old office room downstairs with a generous amount of quilts.”

Jon shook his head. “Maybe if we can get higher up the phone will work again. I’m sorry, but we should go—”

The little man waved his bent arm, cutting Jon off.

“Oh no, you should never be on foot here after dark. We’ve got the largest mountain lion population for miles. They can and will hunt you. I’ve seen what they can do to a person. Nasty business.”

Lily pleaded with the man. “Jon’s arm is dislocated. We need to see a doctor. Is there anything you can do now?”

“I can reset the arm. Used to be a physician myself before I was given my blessing. Let’s go downstairs and I’ll get him fixed.”

Jon and Lily exchanged worried glances, doubtful the old broken man could give them adequate medical attention. However, they were exhausted and out of options. Night would soon come. They made the decision to stay.

They followed the man behind the altar through a thick wooden door. The little old preacher flung open and held the heavy door with shocking ease. He motioned for the couple to enter before him.

“I gotta hold it open.”

Jon and Lily gave each other a worried glance, but they obliged. 

Out of options and out of time.

escending down a creaky metal staircase they emerged into a cramped hallway smelling of mildew. The whole place was concrete, with electric lanterns staked haphazardly to the walls, strung together like Christmas lights with decades-old extension cords. As they went along the bunker-like hall a claustrophobic feeling fell over the couple. They thought their footsteps sounded muffled until they realized there was a loud low frequency humming emanating from somewhere down the way.

“I never told you my name,” said the preacher. “I’m Brother Boone.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m sorry if I seemed rude earlier, we were just worried is all.” Lily tried to sound confident, but her voice shook with fear.

“No, no! It’s quite alright. I understand completely.” Boone turned to the left and ushered them through a narrow door to a small office with floor-to-ceiling shelves stocked with canned food, blankets, water canisters and other unlabeled boxes.

“Now you two wait in this office here. I’ll be back once I get my medical supplies sorted out in the other room.”

Lily sighed as she heard the door latch behind Boone.

“I know.” Jon reached out with his good hand and took his new wife in a firm grasp.

“That feeling I had before, I can’t shake it. I feel that terrible presence all around me. Something is wrong, Jon.” Lily’s hand turned cold as she quaked with fear, goosebumps raising the skin on her slender arms.

“We’ll get through this. I know things seem overwhelming now. Today it does feel like there’s some evil force conspiring against us, but you must remember, no matter what, I will always protect you.” Jon smiled. “Even with my bum arm I’ve still got a mean left hook.”

They shared a tender moment sitting on the cold concrete floor. They had almost fallen asleep in each other’s arms when the door swung open, and the deformed Boone bustled in, breathing heavily.

“My operating table’s all ready!” he said with a chuckle. “Don’t worry, son, it’ll be quick. I’m sorry you had to wait so long. Follow me.”

They made their way further down the dark hall, passing under more of the crudely-hung lanterns buzzing in chorus with their strange muffled humming.

When they came to the end Brother Boone opened another metal door and stood aside, motioning the couple inside.

The room was pitch dark and the humming of the lanterns was markedly louder.

“I'll get the light once we're all in. It cuts off on its own. Damned breaker. Gotta hold the door too, it likes to slam shut like the one upstairs.”

The couple inched closer together. An overpowering metallic smell filled their nostrils.

Lily stopped short, clutching Jon. “I can’t. What’s that smell? It's awful. I’m sorry, I just can’t do smells.”

Before Jon could react, Brother Boone reached out with the longer of his two arms and with a shockingly powerful jerk threw Lily into the abyss.

“What the hell!?” Jon yelled, charging in after his lover.

The heavy metal door swung shut behind them.

Jon fumbled on the ground before finding the warmth of his wife’s hand.

Lily coughed and gagged, the stench of the room unbearable. Jon felt queasy too. The overpowering odor made his head spin, and he was disoriented in the dark. Over Lily’s crying, Jon could make out a thrumming noise coming from some large machine.

The lights turned on, and the source of the smell was now clear.

At first, the couple did not understand the strange shape of what they saw, but as realization set in, Lily retched while Jon simply stared, unable to move.

whole congregation of tumor-ridden people stood around them, pulsating and wriggling. Matted wads of slimy hair cropped out in odd places across their bodies. Massive growths on their bodies sprouted teeth which faintly moved. Infested orifices covered their pallid skin which belched yellow rheum. Some were slouched against the damp concrete walls. Others murmured as they stood or shuffled aimlessly.

The electric hum now had a recognizable source as well—a metal contraption half as tall as a man and twice as long, haphazardly riveted against the far wall of the chamber. The metal on its chassis was worn and oxidized from the humidity of the room. It was clear the decades-old construct had been used frequently during its lifetime. A control panel bore an intimidating number of knobs and dials whose labels had worn off.  On top was a man-sized hatch, with another larger hatch on the left side which was far more rusty than the rest of the machine.

“You see the ark of our god.” The preacher’s voice rang out behind them. He had slipped his way in while they were distracted. “It has told of your coming—that from the ashes of a wreckage would come the maiden that will bear the messiah!”

Lily screamed as Boone grasped her arm and pulled her towards the mechanized sarcophagus. Jon struck him in the head with his good arm. It was to no avail, for the tumors that boiled underneath Boone’s skin were hard as rocks.

Boone threw Lily down and turned on his assailant, grabbing his dislocated arm and wrenching it further out of place.

Jon doubled over, holding his arm tightly. One of the bloated figures made its way over and grasped Jon tightly with what remained of its arms or legs.

He could only watch now as Boone dragged Lily to the machine, holding her down as she kicked and spat on him. He tweaked the machine’s buttons and knobs.

Boone opened the hatch on the top of the fixture and forced Lily inside, slamming the door shut before she could escape. He wiped a mix of Lily’s spittle and his own sweat from his face, long tongue hanging as he panted heavily. The terrified screeches of Lily were faintly audible through the steel door.

“What are you doing to her? Please don’t hurt her! I’ll give you anything!” Jon pleaded, hysterical. Tears streamed down his contorted face.

“You already have, son. She is everything to us.” Boone pressed a final button, and the humming grew into a roar as Lily’s cries reached a crescendo. The screams stopped suddenly, but the construct roared on as Jon fought wildly against the creature that held him.

The machine made a screeching noise and fell silent as another compartment on the side opened slowly.

Jon was frozen in place, eyes locked on what emerged from the machine.

Lily had been transformed into a disgusting beast, a pustulous mass like the rest—slimy skin coated with tufts of mucous-drenched hair, exposed flesh rippling with discolored veins. What remained of her face was a mockery of the beauty that once was.  A purple-yellow mass of teratoma coated her visage like some hell-born pox. Her mouth hung open, dripping noxious bile between ragged breaths.

From Lily’s back a large fetus erupted, conjoined with her bulging backbone.  The babe was red as blood, eyeless, with skin like an alligator. A large mouth lined with rows of teeth opened and released a shrill cry.

Jon stifled his urge to vomit as he attempted to run. He was dragged back by the worshipper’s iron grip to the waiting Brother Boone.

He spoke to Jon as he held the young man tight.

“Your turn. Don’t think we would refuse you the gift of eternal life! I know you led a life of sinful apostasy, but fear not the devil’s wrath. The blind shall see, the deaf shall hear.”

Jon writhed uncontrollably, his voice giving out as he roared with rage. Boone silenced him with a strike to the temple.

“Your woman and child are our madonna and messiah reborn! The bodies they gave to the ark are a pittance in exchange for what we receive in return. When you emerge from this vessel, the eyes of your mind will be opened to this glorious truth.”

“What the hell do you—?” Jon’s voice trailed off. He was dizzy.

“Son, you only need to trust me. Your wife needs you now more than ever. You are right to fight for her, but do it the right way! When you are transformed by the ark, your mind will really be one with her’s. You will be in bliss!” 

Jon’s strength was depleted. “But we’ll be deformed...”

“No, you will be made well. The horror you see is an illusion. Become one with us, become the Madonna's champion. She needs her husband.”

Then Brother Boone with his malformed hands helped his dazed victim up into the hatch of the ark. Jon, in his stupor, climbed in, almost of his own accord.

Before the door was shut Jon could hear Lily’s garbled, broken voice repeating, “Help me, Jon.”

“I will," he said as the machine came to life.

The transformation began.