> The carvings on the box squirmed as the man tried to focus on them, shifting into different images every second. First it was a sharp thrusting sword, then a firm tower, then a piercing bullet. The optical illusion made the man's eyes water and his head hurt. What was more troubling was that the man had gotten no closer to figuring out a way of opening the box. The sheriff had clearly wanted him to find it and the box must have some kind of significance. But the man was no closer to unraveling its mysteries than when he first started investigating the matter in the morning.
>
> Gnawing hunger bites into the man's gut, forcing him to abandon his task. He had eaten poorly during his journey here, most of the available food already hoarded by the Prep Kings, the new lords of the virus ravaged wasteland, and there had been no food in the old house. But this town, despite the presence of the beast, appeared to be relatively prosperous with no signs of the deprivation that had become so common every where else. Perhaps the man could simply buy a meal at a store?
>
> Gathering his valuables and returning the box to its hiding spot, the man peeks out of the window, confirming that the beast was nowhere near the town square. With that bit of security, he leaves the old house, moving swiftly and cautiously in case the beast returns at an inopportune moment. But the town is empty save for a few people wandering about aimlessly. The man makes his way to a well stocked grocer which is open and heads straight to the counter where a homely looking woman mans the till.
>
> "I need food. I have toilet paper to pay with." the man says.
>
> "I'm sorry. We don't accept toilet paper here sir." the cashier smiles stiffly.
>
> The man brings out a battered wallet and pulls out a crumpled stack of old world money, now worth literally less than toilet paper in the wasteland, and offers it to the cashier.
>
> "Cash. Count it. Give me all the bread and meat you have." he says.
>
> "I can't accept your money sir." the cashier replies.
>
> "Please! I need food. I'm going to starve to death at this rate." the man pleads.
>
> The cashier quietly passes over a package of biscuits and whispers, "We can't trade with you. Great Xir said so. Take the biscuits and leave. Hurry."
>
> But the door of the store opens with a bang and a priest strides in, making a beeline for the man.
>
> "So, our new arrival is here." the priest says, "Missing chapel. What a very bad boy, wouldn't you say?" The cashier nods silently, looking down.
>
> "Tell me my son," the priest continues as he grabs the man firmly by the shoulders, "have you heard the good word?"
>
> "The good word of the bible?" the man asks, thankful that there is a man of faith in this benighted hell hole. Perhaps things were not so hopeless as he thought.
>
> "No, my son." the priest smirks, his fingers sinking like claws into the man's body, "the good word of inclusion."
>
> It would have been nice to say the man had voluntarily been led by the priest, but the priest was more pulling him along with the man having no strength to resist.
>
> At least the priest said nothing about him eating the biscuits he'd been given, which were nourishing if bland. He did not care.
>
> Ahead in the distance was a wooded area but just inside was a clearing with a church. It had a tall steeple with bells and was surrounded on all sides by stained glass windows.
>
> As they got closer he had expected the windows to have depictions of angels, Jesus, Mary or other tropes of the Bible, but instead they depicted harsh scenes of men burning in flame and escaping a gaseous form wearing a mask with a long pointed nose the man recognized as Dante's plaque mask.
>
> Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.
>
>
> But the most alarming depiction was the large window below the bells and above the giant twin wooden doors: it depicted the beast. The one they called Xir.
>
> As they approached the doors, the man now trying to pull away, they seemed to open on there own and inside the church was crowded with figures in dark robes sitting in pews. They turned in his direction and the needle noses of their plaque masks pointed at him. He fell to his knees in fear and as his head jerked up he saw the painted fresco that depicted what he could only describe as the end of the world.
>
> But he'd seen this before many times. In his travels from before for work. It was a mural that he had seen at the Denver International Airport on one of the walls.
>
> "Inclusion" the priest looked down at him smiling.
>
> "We do not distance ourselves here" he said. "We include. The new world has begun..."
>
> "When our nation was born," the priest continues, raising his hands to prayer, "it was decreed that all men are to be born equal."
>
> The man scrambles backwards, trying to get away from the pack of lunatics, but the merciless congregation holds him down, forcing him to listen to the priest's sermon.
>
> "But that was a lie." the priest says with tears in his eyes, "Inequality was a fact of life in this country. Humanity had been cursed from the day it had been created, forced into an artificial separation through race, class and creed."
>
> "And most insidiously, by gender. The root of this separation and inequality, a mark laid upon all men the moment they leave the womb."
>
> "A tree with rotten roots can never bear sweet fruit." the priest shakes his head, "No matter how hard they tried, our forefathers could never erase this original sin and build the ideal nation they had dreamed about."
>
> "We see the effects of that failure all around us today. This country, which had for so long nurtured and protected its citizens, has now been laid low by the plague from across the sea. Do you know why my son?"
>
> "I ... I ... don't know." the man mumbles.
>
> "Our nation's spirit grows weak. Its children no longer capable of achieving the ideal of equality between men." the priest thunders, "The accursed construct of gender prevents our people from standing together as true equals."
>
> "But Great Xir came. Great Xir showed us how to achieve this equality, how to rid ourselves of the original sin. Our spirits are strong, making our land strong. The virus will find no purchase here, as long as we heed the teachings of Great Xir."
>
> The robed figures wrestle with the man, carrying him up to an altar next to the priest.
>
> "You know what I say is true my son. Barbarism reigns beyond the borders of our town. People fighting like dogs over what we use to wipe the shit off our asses. Great Xir has built a perfect society. One that you are endangering by refusing to accept the core founding principles of our nation."
>
> The priest grabs the man's hand and lays it over his robes, just at the crotch. The man's hand twitches and feels nothing. Absolutely nothing.
>
> "I was born a man." the priest says, "Now I am both man and woman. No longer bound by the arbitrary distinctions of gender."
>
> One of the robed figures offers the priest a gleaming butcher knife and the priest examines the blade, finding it to his satisfaction.
>
> "Now my son," the priest smiles, "your journey of inclusion is about to begin."
>