*DON DON*
The drums beat rhythmically, keeping a steady pace as the alter was set, the people falling to their knees in rows before it, beginning the prayer to their God. Each note they sang seemed to drone on, the horrible, monotone pitch with which it came forth creating a terrible weight in the pit of the captive's stomach.
*DON DON*
The blonde tugged again at the bindings around his wrists, trying not to cry out as they dug painfully into his ivory skin, leaving behind the ugly, red, telltale signs of rope burns. How long had he been trying to simply loosen those knots and still hadn't gained any slack?
One of the guards snarled at him, growling out something in an unknown tongue.
*DON DON*
Quatre bowed his head in defeat, sinking to the ground. There was no escaping this.
*DON DON*
They meant to kill him, and there was nothing he could do about it.
*DON DON*
He didn't resist as one of them lifted him to his feet- the drugs that had been added to his water earlier were starting to take full effect, and he was practically dragged to the alter.
* * *
Heero raised his hands and the crowd grew quiet, the drumming and chanting ceased. It was time for the ceremony to begin.
Piercing cobalt eyes looked to the men who guarded a large cage, a silent order to bring forth the clan's prisoner. A moment later, the fair haired lass was led out, her stumbling steps making not a sound against the grassy field.
The ceremony was performed once a month, the night before the full moon. The woman would be found perhaps a day earlier. A sacrifice was needed to satiate their God, and it had been discovered many decades ago that young girls seemed to please Him greatly.
This night's sacrifice though... She was lovely. A thick, although short, crop of golden hair fell around pale skin, much paler then that of any in the clan- most here were dark of skin, as though they had spent too long in the sun. Those present wore leather jerkins and leggings, or durable clothes sewn from wool and other animal hides; the sacrifice was clothed in layers of the softest silks, a satin corset worn tight around her slender chest, outlining her curves.
And the eyes! Indeed, the leader of the clan, Heero, had been quite impressed when he saw them. They mimicked the color of the ocean, retaining that feeling of endless depth when looked into.
Surely The Beast of Blood [1] would show the Yui Clan great favor with this flawless offering.
Heero arched a brow questioningly as a hand touched his forearm, nails digging into his skin; he glanced down.
One of the higher ranking females in the clan held his arm, her eyes filling with a sinful greed as the captive was brought closer. "Let me do it, my lord," she practically begged.
A cold expression grew on his features, and she did well to cringe ever so slightly. "I already told you that tonight I would be doing it. Hold your tongue, or I'll tear it out of your head."
It was most disturbing how Heero could speak such a threat in such a monotone, and yet no one doubted his words.
Dorothy's gaze dropped to the ground, and she wisely let the matter drop. It had been rather foolish to ask, especially given the time, but, others noticed the sacrifice's beauty besides Heero.
* * *
Quatre's vision spun as he was dropped roughly onto a cold, marble slab- the top of the alter. He unintentionally whimpered as iron hands grabbed his bound wrists, forcing them above his head. Drugged as he was, the blond couldn't lower them.
Helpless.
His eyes were wide open and despite his best efforts and numerous, slow blinks, everything remained clouded. The most he could make out was a dark shape above him, a grim expression fixed on that otherwise handsome face as the leader bent over him, a hand reaching towards him.
Quatre flinched involuntarily, trying to escape his touch.
Heero ignored the movement, easily putting the symbol of the lamb on his sacrifice's forehead, unconsciously marveling for the last time the beauty before him. Smeared kohl rimmed those large, sea-green eyes, faded rouge on her lips. His own anticipation of the kill rose; he knew why Dorothy had been so bold mere moments before.
Returning his attention to the anxious crowd, Heero raised his hands, chanting in that eerie, level pitch. It was starting.
Distantly, Quatre heard the chanting, and somewhere in the back of his mind it registered just what that meant. It was the beginning of the end, he was going to die here, alone. He started to tremble, and not from the cold, although his skirts did little to shield him from the icy stone that he lay on. He might not have been quivering if he had been free to fight back, even though he would surely have lost. No, he was so frightened for the simple reason that he was utterly powerless to do anything; his limbs refused to obey his orders. As good as paralyzed, his eyesight blurry, he would die like some animal.
One of the few light haired members of the clan stepped forward, carrying the sacrificial dagger. He dropped to his knees at Heero's feet, holding it upward in a show of pure obedience, and was rewarded with a gentle, although detached, caress across his flushed cheek.
Dorothy scowled from her position behind Heero, watching everything that happened. She hated that their leader played favorites.
Heero didn't miss the restrained, heated flickering in Milliardo's eyes as he accepted the blade- his pack longed for bloodshed, and they would hunt this evening after the ceremony.
He raised the dagger above the 'female's chest, the entire clan joining in the prayer to the God, growing increasingly louder as the seconds passed. A thin trickle of sweat fell down Heero's brow.
Dorothy threw her head back as though in the throes of passion, arms wide and above her head.
Milliardo's head was tilted back as well, lips parting as he issued a feral growl.
Quatre didn't miss the bright spot hovering over him as the light from one of the torches illuminating the clearing reflected off the dagger. He closed his eyes, losing consciousness.
Still holding the dagger above the captive, Heero lowered one hand to Quatre's chest, quickly undoing the strings of the bodice. It had to be a clean strike; the sacrifice had to be pierced through the heart directly, or it would be no good.
Jerking down he fabric of the gown, cream colored flesh was exposed... And Heero dropped the dagger- it clanged noisily as it fell on the alter, narrowly avoiding Quatre. His eyes widened in disbelief; the chest of the 'woman' was entirely too flat, missing one (two, actually) of the things every woman -should- have.
Shock took hold of his normally emotionless features as he realized the huge error his clan- NO, the huge error he as leader had made.
This was -not- a female sacrifice, and it was not an offering that their God would accept.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
[1] - Um.. yeah.. ^^ Just a name I picked for the tribe's God... Yup, named after the Malice Mizer song. So much for originality there, ne?
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Ok! So that was Chapter One.. Brief, pretty vague... It will get better, the plot -does- thicken, I swear! But, for the first chapter (meant to lure in all the readers, bwahaha) I think it was good enough.
So, review if you liked; I promise to post sooner if I find out ya'll want more.
--Parakiss
The drums beat rhythmically, keeping a steady pace as the alter was set, the people falling to their knees in rows before it, beginning the prayer to their God. Each note they sang seemed to drone on, the horrible, monotone pitch with which it came forth creating a terrible weight in the pit of the captive's stomach.
*DON DON*
The blonde tugged again at the bindings around his wrists, trying not to cry out as they dug painfully into his ivory skin, leaving behind the ugly, red, telltale signs of rope burns. How long had he been trying to simply loosen those knots and still hadn't gained any slack?
One of the guards snarled at him, growling out something in an unknown tongue.
*DON DON*
Quatre bowed his head in defeat, sinking to the ground. There was no escaping this.
*DON DON*
They meant to kill him, and there was nothing he could do about it.
*DON DON*
He didn't resist as one of them lifted him to his feet- the drugs that had been added to his water earlier were starting to take full effect, and he was practically dragged to the alter.
* * *
Heero raised his hands and the crowd grew quiet, the drumming and chanting ceased. It was time for the ceremony to begin.
Piercing cobalt eyes looked to the men who guarded a large cage, a silent order to bring forth the clan's prisoner. A moment later, the fair haired lass was led out, her stumbling steps making not a sound against the grassy field.
The ceremony was performed once a month, the night before the full moon. The woman would be found perhaps a day earlier. A sacrifice was needed to satiate their God, and it had been discovered many decades ago that young girls seemed to please Him greatly.
This night's sacrifice though... She was lovely. A thick, although short, crop of golden hair fell around pale skin, much paler then that of any in the clan- most here were dark of skin, as though they had spent too long in the sun. Those present wore leather jerkins and leggings, or durable clothes sewn from wool and other animal hides; the sacrifice was clothed in layers of the softest silks, a satin corset worn tight around her slender chest, outlining her curves.
And the eyes! Indeed, the leader of the clan, Heero, had been quite impressed when he saw them. They mimicked the color of the ocean, retaining that feeling of endless depth when looked into.
Surely The Beast of Blood [1] would show the Yui Clan great favor with this flawless offering.
Heero arched a brow questioningly as a hand touched his forearm, nails digging into his skin; he glanced down.
One of the higher ranking females in the clan held his arm, her eyes filling with a sinful greed as the captive was brought closer. "Let me do it, my lord," she practically begged.
A cold expression grew on his features, and she did well to cringe ever so slightly. "I already told you that tonight I would be doing it. Hold your tongue, or I'll tear it out of your head."
It was most disturbing how Heero could speak such a threat in such a monotone, and yet no one doubted his words.
Dorothy's gaze dropped to the ground, and she wisely let the matter drop. It had been rather foolish to ask, especially given the time, but, others noticed the sacrifice's beauty besides Heero.
* * *
Quatre's vision spun as he was dropped roughly onto a cold, marble slab- the top of the alter. He unintentionally whimpered as iron hands grabbed his bound wrists, forcing them above his head. Drugged as he was, the blond couldn't lower them.
Helpless.
His eyes were wide open and despite his best efforts and numerous, slow blinks, everything remained clouded. The most he could make out was a dark shape above him, a grim expression fixed on that otherwise handsome face as the leader bent over him, a hand reaching towards him.
Quatre flinched involuntarily, trying to escape his touch.
Heero ignored the movement, easily putting the symbol of the lamb on his sacrifice's forehead, unconsciously marveling for the last time the beauty before him. Smeared kohl rimmed those large, sea-green eyes, faded rouge on her lips. His own anticipation of the kill rose; he knew why Dorothy had been so bold mere moments before.
Returning his attention to the anxious crowd, Heero raised his hands, chanting in that eerie, level pitch. It was starting.
Distantly, Quatre heard the chanting, and somewhere in the back of his mind it registered just what that meant. It was the beginning of the end, he was going to die here, alone. He started to tremble, and not from the cold, although his skirts did little to shield him from the icy stone that he lay on. He might not have been quivering if he had been free to fight back, even though he would surely have lost. No, he was so frightened for the simple reason that he was utterly powerless to do anything; his limbs refused to obey his orders. As good as paralyzed, his eyesight blurry, he would die like some animal.
One of the few light haired members of the clan stepped forward, carrying the sacrificial dagger. He dropped to his knees at Heero's feet, holding it upward in a show of pure obedience, and was rewarded with a gentle, although detached, caress across his flushed cheek.
Dorothy scowled from her position behind Heero, watching everything that happened. She hated that their leader played favorites.
Heero didn't miss the restrained, heated flickering in Milliardo's eyes as he accepted the blade- his pack longed for bloodshed, and they would hunt this evening after the ceremony.
He raised the dagger above the 'female's chest, the entire clan joining in the prayer to the God, growing increasingly louder as the seconds passed. A thin trickle of sweat fell down Heero's brow.
Dorothy threw her head back as though in the throes of passion, arms wide and above her head.
Milliardo's head was tilted back as well, lips parting as he issued a feral growl.
Quatre didn't miss the bright spot hovering over him as the light from one of the torches illuminating the clearing reflected off the dagger. He closed his eyes, losing consciousness.
Still holding the dagger above the captive, Heero lowered one hand to Quatre's chest, quickly undoing the strings of the bodice. It had to be a clean strike; the sacrifice had to be pierced through the heart directly, or it would be no good.
Jerking down he fabric of the gown, cream colored flesh was exposed... And Heero dropped the dagger- it clanged noisily as it fell on the alter, narrowly avoiding Quatre. His eyes widened in disbelief; the chest of the 'woman' was entirely too flat, missing one (two, actually) of the things every woman -should- have.
Shock took hold of his normally emotionless features as he realized the huge error his clan- NO, the huge error he as leader had made.
This was -not- a female sacrifice, and it was not an offering that their God would accept.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
[1] - Um.. yeah.. ^^ Just a name I picked for the tribe's God... Yup, named after the Malice Mizer song. So much for originality there, ne?
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Ok! So that was Chapter One.. Brief, pretty vague... It will get better, the plot -does- thicken, I swear! But, for the first chapter (meant to lure in all the readers, bwahaha) I think it was good enough.
So, review if you liked; I promise to post sooner if I find out ya'll want more.
--Parakiss