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Pulsar
- Joined
- Jan 26, 2009
The full moon rose above the city, which down-shifted into night mode, never entirely shutting down, but moving into more erotic writhings, nightclubs and strip clubs and hundreds of individual assignations, both legal and non, as night time is always when people feel comfortable letting lose. The truth feels free to come out in the dark, is what some say, and the truth of humanity isn't always pretty or noble or civilized.
They gathered on a flat rooftop of a warehouse, the night watchman bribed, the security system shut off. They gathered and chanted and watched the moon rise, and those who were sensitive to such things could feel the heat of the city, not too far outside of this nigh-abandoned industrial area, the hookers and the dancers, the high and the drunk, the erotic corruption that was humanity's birthright, particularly noticeable under the full moon, long said to influence the tides of human behavior as well as the oceans.
They chanted and invoked, and some drew the sacred design while others lit the candles and burned the incense. When the moon was high enough, the priestess turned to the gathering, and let the chants die away in a sussuration of whispered vowels.
"The moon is once again upon us, my bretheren and sistern," she intoned. "Our god must have a sacrifice. The high priests, stay with me and prepare the ritual area for our god's presence. The rest of you... fan out into the city. Look for a sacrifice. You know what to look for, what our god wants. Find her... and bring her back to us. You've done it before... choose carefully, once again. And we will all share the divine blessings." She looked down upon them, and nodded. "Go now."
Dark-clad forms spread out from the warehouse, shedding the suspicious robes and getting into regular cars. They drove out, a dozen of them, all searching for the perfect young woman. The perfect girl. The perfect sacrifice.
They gathered on a flat rooftop of a warehouse, the night watchman bribed, the security system shut off. They gathered and chanted and watched the moon rise, and those who were sensitive to such things could feel the heat of the city, not too far outside of this nigh-abandoned industrial area, the hookers and the dancers, the high and the drunk, the erotic corruption that was humanity's birthright, particularly noticeable under the full moon, long said to influence the tides of human behavior as well as the oceans.
They chanted and invoked, and some drew the sacred design while others lit the candles and burned the incense. When the moon was high enough, the priestess turned to the gathering, and let the chants die away in a sussuration of whispered vowels.
"The moon is once again upon us, my bretheren and sistern," she intoned. "Our god must have a sacrifice. The high priests, stay with me and prepare the ritual area for our god's presence. The rest of you... fan out into the city. Look for a sacrifice. You know what to look for, what our god wants. Find her... and bring her back to us. You've done it before... choose carefully, once again. And we will all share the divine blessings." She looked down upon them, and nodded. "Go now."
Dark-clad forms spread out from the warehouse, shedding the suspicious robes and getting into regular cars. They drove out, a dozen of them, all searching for the perfect young woman. The perfect girl. The perfect sacrifice.