posted on Feb, 5 2019 @ 10:46 PM
"Do I have to, Daddy?"
Little Coral stood looking at the writhing object before her. The ceremonial knife looked big in her tiny fist.
"Yes, dear. We've been over this. It has to be done. Do you remember what I told you?"
"Well...every year the sun gets cold and winter comes to the land. The crops die. The trees lose their leaves. If we don't give a gift of flesh and
blood the sun will stay cold and it will be winter forever."
"That's right, honey. Our people have been doing this for generations. The sun has always warmed back up."
The object let out a muffled squeal.
"Go on now. Stab it in where I showed you."
The knife flashed down. It bit deep and bright blood flowed down the channels etched into the sides of the altar. The young woman (nude and tied
spread-eagle upon it) gave a last gasp and fell still. Light faded from her blue eyes.
"Good job, honey. I'm so proud of you. Now, let's go get something to eat."
edit on 5-2-2019 by Skid Mark because: (no reason given)