The sacrifice

All the elements were in place. The altar was set. The mood was right. Now, all I could do was wait. I knew the timing had to be just right. Otherwise this wouldn’t work.

I looked around me. Those who had come to join me were silent also. Waiting. I could feel the anticipation in the air. Everyone gathered were here because of me. Because of what I could do. I felt no anxiety about the task I was to perform. I knew I was more than qualified.

The only sound in the room came from the old grandfather clock on the far wall. Its methodical tick tock had a calming effect. As each minute passed the tension increased.

To someone looking in a window the scene would look rather boring. Bland. Eight people gathered around a table. Two candles lit. Wine. A knife. No one talking. It all looked perfectly normal.

As the tick tock of the grandfather clock brought the moment closer, I looked around at my companions. I could tell they were getting impatient. The look in their eyes spoke of hunger. But everyone here knew the wait would be worth it.

I glanced down at the knife. My tool for the event. It had been sharpened in preparation to a fine edge. I know it would cut true.

Even the wine was perfect for the occasion. Chilled to just the right temperature. A perfect vintage to match our sacrifice this night.

My thoughts wandered to that sacrifice. I’m sure our lovely sacrifice had no idea what we planned to do with it. No matter. No one here cared what it might have thought. After all, a sacrifice was supposed to die. Wasn’t it?

Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

So close now. Almost time…

Tick, tock. Dong, dong, dong, dong, dong, dong, dong, dong, dong.

It was time.

I looked at two of the people who were around out table. All I had to do was nod. They both got up and left the room. It was their job to bring in our sacrifice. They were strong, young men. The perfect choices to bring in the sacrifice into the room and lay it on the table.

Everyone else became tense with desire. I could read in their eyes how much they had been waiting for just this moment.

Gasps went all around as the two I had dispatched came back in with the sacrifice. Golden brown skin greeted us. We could feel the heat radiating from our sacrifice as it was placed on the table. It didn’t move. It couldn’t.

Now was my moment. I picked up the knife. Light caught the blade as I held it in my hand. I took one last glance around at the people gathered here with me. I knew they couldn’t wait much long. In truth, neither could I.

I brought the edge of the knife down and pressed it into the flesh of our golden sacrifice. It didn’t move. The blade slid through its skin with ease.

Carefully I carved. I knew this was going to be one of the best sacrifices we had ever had.

As the sacrificial juices oozed down the knife, I removed a large piece and placed it on the pile of plates to my left. The person who sat there passed it to their left, and so on. As each piece of golden flesh I cut was placed on a plate it was passed on, until everyone had a plate in front of them.

Before I allowed anyone to partake in eating our sacrifice I bowed my head. Everyone else did the same.

After a moment I raised my head and nodded. The frenzy began.

Afterwards everyone agreed it was the best turkey anyone had ever eaten.


About ynnarie

Lynn Salisbury grew up in the rural town of McGrath, Minnesota. After graduating from McGregor High School in the mid 1980’s, she moved to the Twin Cities. Lynn spent her 20’s and 30’s working like the average person, never imagining the calling that awaited her. But those two decades of working, learning, growing, led to the day a friend challenged Lynn to write. Lynn met that challenge and never looked back. Now she draws from her life’s experiences and creative mind to weave stories. Stories about different worlds, different lives, different perspectives. If you ask her about her life, Lynn will tell you it’s been rather simple and sometimes boring. But if you dig a little deeper you will find that it’s been a bit more exciting than that. Lynn has done everything from designing clothes ranging from prom and wedding dresses to drag queen attire and everything in-between, became a registered, ordained Pagan minister in the state of Minnesota, to creating a group, on a social media site, of fans devoted to her favorite football team that has more members than most medium sized towns. Lynn still lives in the Twin Cities area, enjoying the changing seasons, spending time with family, working, and writing. She will admit she hasn’t found her genre niche yet, and she secretly hopes she never does, leaving the possibilities wide open for any type of story that formulates in her head, mixed with a bit of muse inspiration, to spill out into the written word. She writes what she would want to read, having taken to heart a piece of advice she once heard. And she feels blessed and grateful for the chance to share her stories with the world. As the mother of three amazing, beautiful and strong daughters, Lynn knows that even when the world seems the darkest, they are her light. And she never forgets what an honor and privilege it is to be their mother. “If you haven’t had your ‘a-ha’ moment today, you haven’t been paying attention.” – Lynn Salisbury
This entry was posted in Short story, Writing and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s