Daivon Brown

Dr. Sean Pears

ENGW 105

25 April 2023

Dolos Loves You

Chapter 1

DING. DING. DING. The three tones, each lasting about four seconds, sounded through the four

loudspeakers strategically placed on each of the four vertices of the square enclosure of the

grounds. It was the call to Dolos’ Chamber. From all four corners of the grounds, entranced

individuals dressed in either gowns or overalls rapidly shuffled to the chamber blissful to

strengthen their connection with Dolos. Although this happened thrice a day, the excitement of

the congregation remained the same as if it were the first time. The loudspeakers rang at 06:00,

12:00, and 18:00. The Etapa, positioned at the chamber as usual, anticipated the mass arrival of

the congregation that consisted of some two hundred people. Two stood at the double doors that

marked the entrance and the other three inside the sermon room to distribute each person of the

congregation’s portion of fie root tea.

“Praise Dolos!” “Pray-ase Dolos!” “Prrase Dolos!” “We love you Dolos!” Various regional and

cultural accents could be heard expressing their admiration for Dolos as the members of the

congregation raced to the Chamber. The two Etapa posted at the entrance of the Chamber

remained facing forward as if not talking to one another and laughed and snarked amongst

themselves as they listened to the congregation approach, but quickly ceased as the first member

greeted them. The Etapa had to maintain a stern and serious image so the congregation wouldn’t

question their authority.

The congregation flooded the chamber, making their way into the sermon room where the three

Etapa had already begun pouring the tea into the paper cups. These cups were recollected from

each member to ensure all of the tea was consumed and recycled for the next call to the chamber.

No one ever seemed to care that the cups were reused and therefore molded; just part of the tea’s

symptoms.

Everyone didn’t receive the same amount of tea. At the time of entrance, each member is

branded with a number one through five by their visibly attained weight. This number determines

the serving of fie root tea each person will receive every call to the chamber. Ones receive half a

cup; twos, a cup; threes, a cup and a half; fours, two cups; and fives, three. This inevitably

created a social structure within the congregation due to the spiritual notion that the Etapa

cleaved to the consumption of the tea. The Etapa have led the congregation to believe that the

highly hallucinogenic psychedelic fie root is as normal as any other boiled leaf; and, that to form

what they call a “physiological” connection with Dolos they must always contain this tea in their

systems.

Of course, these false notions were simply used to encourage the overconsumption of this mild

psychedelic that causes increased credulity. Why else would the congregation stay? All personal

items, including all forms of identification, were confiscated from each member by the Etapa at

the time of entry. They have no phones or electricity, and the only food they get is copious

amounts of corn, grain, and fie root tea that their free labor produces so the Etapa incur no costs.
Chapter 2

DING. DING. DING. The loudspeakers rang, except it wasn’t the normal afternoon call.

However, as usual, the congregation poured into the chamber fiending for their portion of tea.

When they arrived, however, there was no tea; and four new members awaited the rest of the

congregation: three women and a man, each sitting in an old, splintery, wooden chair. The foul

smell of burnt human flesh from their freshly branded arms filled the room and the heat from the

combusting fireplace deepened the unpleasant stench. The rest of the congregation soon realized

what the occasion was and grew cheerful. The congregation crowded into the sermon room as

they cheered on, praised, and witnessed the Etapa perform the induction ceremony on the new

members.

The first step of induction into Dolos’ congregation was a sacrifice. That of which to be

sacrificed was dictated by the Etapa and were never minor items or appendages. These sacrifices

included hands, eyes, tongues, ears, and even children; nothing was off the table. According to

the Etapa, the only way to eternal life with Dolos was a permanent sacrifice to prove one’s

worthiness. The Etapa left the room and began contemplating the sacrifices.

The Etapa wore masks and black robes to conceal their identities from the congregation. The

masks were specialized and distorted their voices to be unrecognizable. This not only stopped the

congregation from knowing exactly who each of the Etapa were but also prevented them from

differentiating between them. The same five Etapa were always present on the grounds, but one

could never know if it was the same Etapa or a different one they were currently seeing.

One of the three women was pregnant, one elderly, and one young. As most of the congregation

had already anticipated, the first sacrifice to be made is the woman’s fetus. An Etapa approached

the woman and in a voice that resembled a robot said, “to prove worthy of Dolos, you must gift
him your child.” The lady, so high off of fie root, just mumbled slurs of incomprehensible words

in response.

It is rare that children are sacrificed while still in the womb. The last time a prenatal baby was

sacrificed, both the member and the baby were given to Dolos that day. Two fives cleared the

shrines off the altar table and placed the pregnant woman on the table. They then looped ropes

around each of the table legs and tied them around each of her arms and legs to constrain her to

the table while they waited for the Etapa to return with the materials.

The congregation watched on in excitement as the Etapa prepared for the sacrifice. The woman,

in her delirium, was now bound to a wooden table, and the Etapa proceeded to cut open her

stomach. The horrific screams of agony from the woman were muffled by the cheers and chants

of the congregation. The Etapa reached inside her and pulled out the fetus, holding it up for

everyone to see. It was moving. The congregation erupted in applause, praising Dolos for the

sacrifice. Abruptly, the baby was tossed to a different Etapa and the bloody fetus was then flung

toward the flames. The congregation paused as the premature baby glided across the room and

pondered on whether there would be an explosion because surely such a grand sacrifice would

call for an extravagant sign of gratitude from Dolos. To the disappointment of most in the room,

there was no explosion, only loud crackles and pops as the fetus burned. Even though there was

no outburst in flames, a wretched stench emerged from the charring child.

The man sitting at the front of the sermon room, waiting to be told what he had to sacrifice

became sick from the smell of blood and burning flesh and vomited on the floor. At the time of

his arrival, he was mistakenly branded with a three instead of a four by a careless Etapa; the man

had been underserved fie root tea. He quickly began to snap out of his drug-induced daze and

realize what was transpiring in front of his eyes.

The man noticed the knife still in the Etapa’s hand from aborting the woman’s baby, rose from

his seat, and began yelling at the top of his lungs: “HEY! STOP! What are y’all doing to her?!”

The man then sprinted to the table to witness the monstrosity that had just occurred. While in

stride to the table, the man slid across the floor on the large puddle of blood and fell on top of the

dying woman. The man started screaming. He fell back onto the drenched floor and immediately

stood back up. The rambunctious volume of the congregation still drowning out the man’s

screams, left him no choice but to act.

Without the Etapa noticing, the man who had been trying to catch their attention and stop them

suddenly lunged towards one of the Etapa, grabbed a nearby object, and struck them on the head.

The man hadn’t noticed it, but what he picked up was the blade that had just been used to

terminate the formerly pregnant woman’s pregnancy. The head of the Etapa who had just been

assaulted gushed blood as they now laid flat on the dirty chamber floors and their body jerked as

whatever life left inside them exited their body.

The remaining Etapa quickly reacted, attempting to subdue the man, but he fought back fiercely,

using whatever objects he could find as weapons. In a frenzy to find a quick escape out of the

sermon room, the man picked up a paper cup that had somehow remained dry enough to ignite in

the fireplace and bunged it onto the floor, causing the room to burst into flames.

Although they were more than able to escape, the congregation felt the evil that had just been

committed by the man could only be redeemed by a sacrifice bigger than any sacrifice made

before. The congregation amalgamated to obstruct the only exit from the sermon room. The man,

desperate to live, tried his hardest to fight his way through the dense crowd. The flames already

reaching the ceiling, caused the roof to begin to collapse inward. Flaming heavy wooden beams

plummeted downward, crushing and immediately killing several members of the congregation at
a time. The congregation chanted and begged Dolos for forgiveness as the skin melted off their

bones. The man, hopeless at this point, submitted to his fate and threw himself into the pile of

burning wooden beams that had accumulated in the center of the room. His miserable screams

soon turned into indistinct gurgles as his body was broiled by the flames.

It took 35 more minutes after the death of the man for the entire building and its contents to

become ash. There were no survivors of the fire. All of the congregation and Etapa died. The

remnants of the grounds were later discovered by expeditionists in search of a supposed “lost

city” that kept showing up on areal radar detection systems.