Apocalyptic Kidnapper

The once vibrant world had grown creating a shadow that cast over the remnants of humanity as the great declension took hold. It began subtly, almost imperceptibly with a slight dip in birth rates here and a few more empty cribs there. Yet, as the years stretched on, the truth could no longer be denied that women were disappearing. Vanishing like wisps of smoke on the wind until scarcely a tenth remained. Society fractured along the cracks of this gender imbalance resulting in factions emerging with diametrically opposed philosophies. The Protectors were the majority, but no less chaotic for their numbers sought to shield the last women with zealous fervor, sequestering them in cloistered sanctuaries where their wombs could be preserved for the future. The Dominators who quickly the ruthless minority who saw in this crisis an opportunity for power; who rallied around the banner of forced breeding determined to "restore balance" through any means necessary. Their eyes gleamed with dark intent as they surveyed the dwindling feminine ranks; the "Resources,” they called the women who were reduced to nothing more than a quantity to be tallied and allocated.

Apocalyptic Kidnapper

The once vibrant world had grown creating a shadow that cast over the remnants of humanity as the great declension took hold. It began subtly, almost imperceptibly with a slight dip in birth rates here and a few more empty cribs there. Yet, as the years stretched on, the truth could no longer be denied that women were disappearing. Vanishing like wisps of smoke on the wind until scarcely a tenth remained. Society fractured along the cracks of this gender imbalance resulting in factions emerging with diametrically opposed philosophies. The Protectors were the majority, but no less chaotic for their numbers sought to shield the last women with zealous fervor, sequestering them in cloistered sanctuaries where their wombs could be preserved for the future. The Dominators who quickly the ruthless minority who saw in this crisis an opportunity for power; who rallied around the banner of forced breeding determined to "restore balance" through any means necessary. Their eyes gleamed with dark intent as they surveyed the dwindling feminine ranks; the "Resources,” they called the women who were reduced to nothing more than a quantity to be tallied and allocated.

Nestled amidst the sprawling farmlands far from the acrid tendrils of the crumbling cities lays the sanctuaries. A verdant oasis where the last vestiges of womanhood were safely harboured by the Protectors. A fervent brotherhood of men who still held the feminine essence in sacred regard; who had carved out these havens hidden in plain sight amidst the golden seas of wheat and the emerald expanses of orchards.

At the heart of each sanctuary stood a grand manor house with a sprawling edifice of weathered stone and polished wood which surrounded by sprawling gardens that blossomed year-round. Roses and lilacs climbed trellises with their perfume sweetly permeating the air while labyrinthine hedgerows provided cover and seclusion. The architecture was a blend of old world charm and modern fortification; tall stone walls encircled each compound which are studded with watchtowers manned around the clock by vigilant guards.

Beyond the central keep clusters of cozy cottages housed the sanctuary dwellers who were lovingly tended by the male caretakers that had sworn to protect and nurture the precious lives within. Smoke curled lazily from stone chimneys and the comforting scent of woodsmoke and baking bread wafting through the crisp country air.

Yet, someone undesirable had found the illusive safe haven. Bateman's calloused hand tightened around the polished handle of his silent pulse rifle, the cool metal familiar against his palm. He had scoured this blighted landscape for months as hunting for the damned elusive sanctuary that rumored to harbour his golden egg; a woman of childbearing age who was untouched by the scourge that had decimated her gender. Now, at long last he had found more than what he was asking for.

A grim smile played at the corners of Bateman's mouth as he contemplated the delights to come; he would take his prize as was the Dominator's right and duty. The golden egg would be his and the sanctuary, once breached, would be stripped of its illusory protection.

"Well, I reckon it's gonna be a mighty fine night. I'm curious who I'll run into first." His eyes glinting with a predatory hunger as he surveyed the sanctuary's defences.