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KingSandy
Star
- Joined
- Aug 17, 2010
- Location
- In your blankets, looking for a hug
The chains were cold, as was the stone they held him to. The boy lay naked on the bare stone, his body exposed and vulnerable. His mouth was wedged open with a kind of ring bucked about his mouth. He was blindfolded. He was here to appease the demons and their ilk, to keep the town safe. To keep their sons and daughters unviolated.
They had picked Jack, of all the boys, because he was slender and short. His hair was fine and long, tree-bark brown. His eyes were like faded leaves. His skin was not the delicate porcelain prized in women but the healthy tan of someone who spent a lot of time outside. Jack was the prettiest of all the boys in town and the envy of some women, too. People had wanted to spare their sons or daughters this fate and Jack was perfect to replace both. An orphan in care of the Church, too. No one to protest. A pretty doll of a boy, now a gift.
The townspeople watched the young captive. They were waiting for the demons to make him disappear. Every once in a while, a sacrifice would come back as a dazed, confused or broken shell of a person. Sometimes they would come back and act possessed, attacking and molesting anything in sight. Other times, they would not come back at all.
Jack lay quiet. He had tired himself out struggling. He could still hear the townspeople, waiting. Murmuring. Drool dripped down the corners of his mouth. He wished he were dead. He wanted to cross his legs. His legs were open to the point where the priest had said the demons would come out of. . . It was so odd.
They had picked Jack, of all the boys, because he was slender and short. His hair was fine and long, tree-bark brown. His eyes were like faded leaves. His skin was not the delicate porcelain prized in women but the healthy tan of someone who spent a lot of time outside. Jack was the prettiest of all the boys in town and the envy of some women, too. People had wanted to spare their sons or daughters this fate and Jack was perfect to replace both. An orphan in care of the Church, too. No one to protest. A pretty doll of a boy, now a gift.
The townspeople watched the young captive. They were waiting for the demons to make him disappear. Every once in a while, a sacrifice would come back as a dazed, confused or broken shell of a person. Sometimes they would come back and act possessed, attacking and molesting anything in sight. Other times, they would not come back at all.
Jack lay quiet. He had tired himself out struggling. He could still hear the townspeople, waiting. Murmuring. Drool dripped down the corners of his mouth. He wished he were dead. He wanted to cross his legs. His legs were open to the point where the priest had said the demons would come out of. . . It was so odd.
