A Personal Sacrifice
Imre and Ji walked toward the altar. She felt its malice. Felt it drawing them closer.
Ji's small hand in hers was warm. She looked down at him. Grey eyes. Black curls. Smooth skin. Unblemished. A perfect sacrifice. And she, Imre, was charged with leading him to the slaughter. Such an honor, they said.
He smiled up at her. Trusting.
They stopped at the altar. "Ji," she whispered. "Run." She pushed him toward the forest. A stinking cloud hung over the stone. In the center, two glowing red coals. Eyes.
"I will not be denied." The cloud enveloped her.
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1 comment:
Nicely creepy!
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