"Begin the Ceremony!" the priest shouted so loud the man thought his ear drum may burst.

He struggled but could not fight free. The priest may no longer have his manhood, but he still had the strength of a man.

The robed figures formed a circle around him and all at once their robes fell to the ground revealing a sea of unics. Between their legs was nothing, just a blank area with crude scaring. They looked like abused Ken dolls, but as he looked closer he realized some of the figures were females. Instead of their being something removed something had been sewn shut and where their breasts had been were large, circular mounds of scar tissue that looked more like burns. Their physiques gave them away too: the men with still muscular bodies, the women without.

But when they all removed their masks, it became more clear. They were all bald. Even their eyebrows were shaven, but the women could not betray their feminine features even with their slits sewn shut.

The man flailed and screamed.

"You think just by cutting off your cock you are no longer a man!?" he shouted at the priest. "Your muscle betrays you!"

He snatched a arm half free and pointed a finger at one of the naked figures.

"...and her fragile features betray her!"

The woman had been as stoned faced as all the figures but frowned and her eyes showed profound sadness, as if she has been exposed and no longer belonged.

The priest snarled and snatched the hand back.

"You are wrong!" he shouted in the man's face, spittle landing on his cheek. "And you will see! Great Xir commands it!"

The priest ripped the pants off the man in one motion and held the knife to the man's member.

He screamed and pleaded but it was no use.

"Great Xir! Great Xir! Great Zir!" the congregation chanted in perfect unison. Even the frowning woman joined in after a moment's hesitation with new found vigor, her faith restored.

"You will see..." the priest said softly, smiling down at him as he raised the knife.

He noticed one of the naked figures was holding a hot poker, ready to cauterize the wound.

The man closed his eyes and then the bang came followed by a flash.

It was so loud his ears rang and he fell to the ground. He opened his eyes but couldn't see, disoriented he smelled smoke and then felt a pair of arms grab him and pull him to his feet.

"Use your legs goddammit" the voice said and so he did and soon he felt branches and briers scratching at his feet. It seemed they went on forever, the person pulling on him. His legs burned so bad he thought they might explode, but not as bad as his eyes which felt like someone was holding a lit match against them.

Suddenly they stopped and he collapsed to his knees and his hands splashed into something wet and cold.

Water. A stream or creek of some kind.

"Splash some in you eyes" the voice said. "It will help with the burning."

So he did and after a few minutes he could see again and the burning stop. His breathing returned to normal and he turned to see a robed figure

"Who are you?" he choked, his voice raspy.

"My name is Jenzora" the voice said, flapping back the hood of their robe to free shoulder length locks of fiery red hair that cascaded over big green eyes and a beautiful, but soot covered face.

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She grabbed the man's hand and placed it hard against her crotch.

"I am not one of them..."

In the distance they heard footsteps, shouting.

"Find them!"

"We have to go! Now!" she said alarmed and he was pulled to his feet again.

Jen led the man through the tangled undergrowth, as the sharp branches of the brier patches lashing at their legs. In the distance was the howl of dogs and the angry shouts from the cultists.

"Faster!" Jen urges the man, "The Priests of Xir have brought their dogs. The river will mask our scent for awhile, but they will catch up with us soon enough."

The man nods, his chest heaving from exertion, as he follows the course set by Jen. She leads him ever deeper into the woods, the trees gradually masking the afternoon sun, pulling a gloomy shade over the two of them. In the distance, the noise of pursuit begins to drift further away from the pair.

"We made it!" the man gasps in relief, "The river must have thrown the dogs of scent!" Jen nods in silence, but does not slacken her pace, pushing further into the woods.

Just as a loud bestial howl shatters the relative peace of the moment. An animal cry, sounding like a cross between the voice of a man and a chimpanzee. A cry that the man had grown intimately familiar with over the last few days.

"The beast." the man whispers to his companion.

"Xir has joined the hunt." Jen confirms, "It must want your manhood badly. Hurry or all will be lost!"

The duo press forward, running like the wind, sweat dripping into their eyes. But its no good. With the beast leading them, the cultists are back on track and begin to steadily close in, the sound of dogs and beating feet growing steadily louder.

"How now, MAN?" the taunting voice of the beast carries across the distance, "Did you not enjoy my hospitality? Why are you in such a hurry?"

"They're catching up!" Jen cries in alarm, "Faster! Faster!"

"There is no place for you to run." Xir continues, "Where will you rest? What will you eat? You'll just condemn yourself to a slow death."

The man's pace falters for a second as Xir's words strike home. Where could he go? There was no escape from this town. He knew that for a fact.

"Don't listen to it!" Jen slaps the man hard on the face, "Did you escape the virus just to submit to that demon?"

"No." the man agrees and starts pumping his legs again.

"Oh, the girl found you didn't she?" Xir mocks, "Tell me, Jenzora, how is your father doing now? Roaming the wasteland after he tricked that idiot into switching places with him."

The man now comes to a complete stop, staring at Jen in wordless horror.

"Please. You must trust me." Jen pulls at the man's arm, "I saved you when no one else would."

"The daughter of a betrayer is what she is." Xir roars triumphantly, the voice very close now, "Betrayed from the start you were. By the old man you thought was a friend. And betrayed you will be by the corrupt seed of his filthy balls!"

The man slumps on to the ground, completely defeated. Its no use. Its really no use.

"I didn't want to use this now." Jen curses, "but it looks like I have no choice."

She pulls out a wad of old world money from her jacket and holds it high in the air, screaming, "In the name of Mammon, under the order of Globohomo, make way!"

The wad of money burns like a torch and as the ashes scatter in the wind ...