I still remember her eyes. In them was no longer that strong resolution with which she had accepted her duty only a few days before. In them was no longer that carefree woman who once told me she loved me. ⠀ Those eyes were full of fear. ⠀ Every night I wake up, remembering those eyes. ⠀ I remember how I clung tightly to my book of enchantments, trembling. We were all mute there. We waited for the beast to arrive and take its sacrifice in the midst of the torrential rain. That's how we calmed its appetite. ⠀ But I couldn't stop looking at her. ⠀ The rules of the sect forbade us to establish relations among ourselves. All of us, at some point, have to be the sacrifice. We accepted that from the moment we entered. ⠀ We spend our days in these ancient ruins, filling our minds with the knowledge of books and busy with daily tasks. It is an austere and silent life. Monotonous most of the time. ⠀ Or, at least, it was until I met her. ⠀ She had given meaning to a life that I, so disinterestedly, had entrusted to inevitable death. And seeing her frightened eyes that night, I discovered that I, too, had given meaning to hers. ⠀ I couldn't endure it. ⠀ "Celina!" I shouted. ⠀ I ran against the master of ceremonies, before the stunned eyes of all the members of the cult, and smashed the book of enchantments in his face. ⠀ The old man fell unconscious. ⠀ I had never punched before. But when one of my fellow cultists came to catch me, I punched him so hard that we all heard his nose break. ⠀ No one else had dared to stop me. I thought that was enough. ⠀ Oh, but what was my horror as I turned to Celina and discovered that the beast was already behind her. ⠀ I didn't make it in time. ⠀ I fell to my knees on the ground, helpless, as I watched the beast take her away. My companions rushed at me. ⠀ Nothing mattered to me anymore. ⠀ Now I am in this cell, waiting for the next sacrifice. ⠀ Waiting to see her again. ⠀ Remember to like the post
Snow Day ................. My brothers jumped up and down on their beds in excitement. I peered from my window and smiled at how white and peaceful everything looked covered in a beautiful blanket of snow. Our neighbors and their children were already dressed and heading out to clear their driveway. The children were wrapped up warm and started to snow fight and their laughter made me smile. My brothers rushed to get dressed, laughing and playing as they did. Quickly my attention was drawn outside the children next door were screaming. I opened my window. “What’s wrong? “ I yelled down at them as they fell into the snow and just disappeared. Scared I ran quickly down stairs. “Where are my boots?” My brother asked my mum. “Under the stairs,“ mum answered. “Don’t go out there mum something’s wrong! ” “What are you talking about Jack? go get dressed” I slowly walked upstairs wondering, had I imagined it? How could people just vanish into the snow? I started to get dressed watching the children pulling their sleighs to the hill up the road and suddenly very quickly each of them disappeared into the snow one by one. “MUMMMM don't go out there!” I shouted. I ran downstairs and watched mum, dad and my brothers heading out the front door. I stood in the doorway shaking, watching as my brothers happily began to build a snowman. My dad cleared the snow off the car windscreen and my mum walked towards me holding her hand out, “Come on Jack, it’s fun” My brothers started to call for help and disappeared. Dad was sucked down into the snow screaming in pain. My mum turned around and ran towards me but she fell head first into the snow. I watched terrified as the snow quickly ate into her face like acid, bubbling and melting her skin and muscle to the bone. I covered my eyes......and she was gone. I stood in shock looking at the remains of my mums hand left on our doorstep. I slammed the door and went inside and cried. Day turned to night
Story Below. ⚊ Art by: @invadertots (artstation.com/tots) Brian Valeza is nothing short of phenomenal. Based on the description of this piece, this creature is based on Anitos/Bulol. Check his gallery out. It’s insane to say the least. ⚊ 1/3 The people of On awoke to a great mystery: there was a mountain where before there was none. They were quiet people, the villagers that is; people born in the heights, knowers of the sky, conquerors of winding slopes and cragged peaks, lords of narrow mountainsides and hidden riverbeds. They spoke rarely, if ever, for the noise of their voices, they had learned, lured beasts to On. And so, somewhere in time, their words had been spun into hand movements and exaggerated mouthings. That odd day, they all stood outside their wooden homes, and stared at the unbecoming mountain. They pressed their hands together, and then they loosed the heels of their palms, expanding them but maintaining their fingertips against one another, forming a circle of sorts. Moments later, they pressed their palms back together, and repeated the motions time and time again. They went from slit to circle; from deep reverence to vast besument. That sign was ‘Oaz,’ and Oaz was a once-in-a-life-time sign, for it was only allowed in the presence of gods. They stayed there, gazing in endless admiration from dawn to dawn, waiting, hoping for the deity to reveal itself, to show its true face and the wonders that came along with its ageless might. But the days went by, and there it remained, still as a lonesome stone in a windless road. Three men, whose names were a different finger each, left the village and ventured toward the new mountain convinced once they stepped on its back, the deity would feel the lightness of their souls, and would rise and bless them for the purity within them. Continues in the comments.
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