Story: Cemetery Satanic ritual at night

Take One

The stone beads in her inner pocket rolled smooth in her hand, warm being so close to her body. Her thumb traces the slight bump on Eskirous, the healing bead, to dab gently on a bruise or injury - but not an open wound! The oval shape of Laesha, the presage bead, slips between her fingers, pointing to the platform, clearly worried. Argos can feel the power radiate from her beads, wash over her skin as if wakutil slithered over her with its smooth naked skin, as they sometimes did when she was on her sleeping mat.

But only like a wakutil. Not, as it had been before, as if a Wirendan, one of the massive deep-sea wales, had decided to take a rest on your chest. Before, the power of the beads would take her breath away, would flatten her. Now, there was just a tingle. Barely enough for one spell a day.

She could hear her robe rubbing against others in the crowd. She focused on the stand in the middle of the crowd, which was keeping some distance from the stand and its pillar.

Her feet brushed up against a large stone on the ground. She knelt down and put her hand on it. Stones talked to her, the little bead stones and the large ones. "so deep" whispered the stone "this one is so deeply buried and has almost forgotten the sky and the moon, it had long hair once, just like you...." she quickly lifted her hand, not wanting to hear more about this long passed creature. Laesha buzzed with concern and care.

Small groups in the crowd started to chant hesitantly but the notes faded. Her neighbour pulled his cloak around himself more tightly and shifted from foot to foot. He looked sideways at her. "This will never work. Never. It has never worked without a Sensitive". She glanced at him, her large brown eyes taking in his weathered skin, tightly pressed lips, large ear piercing on the left. A Tender, then, a Grower of sustenance or a Keeper of the herd. To him, beasts and plants would speak, the way stones spoke to her. Though her path had not yet been set, but she thought she might make a good Finder. He, as a Tender, would need tonight to succeed for the crops to grow, for the beasts to bear young, for the soil to give.

"Giving and taking" chanted some in the crowd rhythmically "giving, taking and returning, the circle turns and returns, the circle turns us and we are the circle. Grant us the power that is motion and stillness". Her neighbour shakes his head.

Ikar, the main Tender, climbed on to the stage, her long light robe trailing behind her. The crowd continues to chant softly.

Ikar raises her long arms and the moon glints on the sharp blades tightly gripped in her slender fingers. Her sons carry up the Shroud in which the Sensitive's body is wrapped. "She passed before passing the gift" chants the crowd "She passed before passing the gift. Angel of Darkness, show us who must pass to allow the passing of the gift. Who must pass to allow the passing. "

She notices that her neighbour is staring transfixed at the shroud. He has started to sway with the chant and his lips are moving.



Take Two: It Takes a family

(Here's the one my partner wrote!)

"Mom… Todd took my jumper!"

"Todd give your sister back her jumper!"

"I never!" his laughter betrayed his lie.


"Yes Mom…"

The upstairs descended into thumping as the kids dealt with their respective issues getting ready.

"I really don't understand why they can't schedule these things.. I dunno, around the busy season." Lamented Mr. Trisket.

"It's not about scheduling and you know it!" Mrs. Trisket chided her husband, "It's the eclipse, it must be today."

"Still, they could at least take it into account, 's'all I'm sayin'"

She paused, cocking an eyebrow to look at him.

"Bill, seriously! You're not planning on wearing… THAT, are you?"

"What's wrong with this?" He twisted around half on display, half looking at himself in the mirror.

"A button-down salmon shirt… Honestly, dear, you call yourself a satanist!"

"Now! I have it on very good authority Beelzebub was frequently to be seen sporting a pastel button-down, before the… well you know.. I'm simply acknowledging the history here."

Her look could have withered flowers. "Robes! Now!"

"Yes dear."

15 minutes later the family, dutifully garbed in ceremonial black robes, stowed orderly in their dodge mini-van, trundled down Pine Cres, carefully at or below the speed limit (Mrs Trisket abode by the law). They did, however, make a valiant attempt to frown at the variety of Christmas lights on display as the neighborhood houses rolled past, bathing them in multi-colored staccato light-wash. Bill and Mary focusing stoically ahead, the kids, less so, until they were clear of the suburb and out on the motorway.

"Are we there yet?"

"Hush!" chided Mary.

The refrain repeating roughly every 15 minutes alternating between Todd and Jenny until they turned off on the gravel road that would take them to farmer Cain's place.

"Why do we always have to go here." sighed Todd, as if he didn't ask the same question every time.

"Shut it!" replied Mr. Trisket, keeping with the traditional reply.

"More than usual today" commented Mrs. Trisket, observing the cars in the lot as they piled out of the van and gathered their things.

"Right, you lot." Mr. Trisket looked seriously at the kids. "Last chance for the potty before we head out and I am NOT going to be embarrassed by your 'But Dad I really gotta pee' in the middle of the sacrifice again tonight!" His eye carefully traveled between each of them.

"I'm good. Really." Jenny confirmed.

The eye shifted back to Todd.

"Uh, oh one sec…" and he scampered off to the port-a-loos athwart the parking area.

"Hey there, Triskets." A raised voice and a wave from across the parking area.

Mrs. Trisket acknowledging "Family Stone, Satin be praised."

"Satan be praised." came the expected reply as the other woman moved off.

"Honestly, the fact that woman expects us to just pretend she isn't seriously interested in dating that…" she paused to make the sign of the inverted cross, "that, christian boy. It's disgusting."

"Now now, Mary, we need to be more accepting. I'm sure, in the end she will be welcomed into Hell."

"Pffff… ya well getting into Hell is not my concern, it's the position you arrive at isn't it!"

This argument was a favorite of the pair and they settled into it easily as everyone waited for Todd to return. Which he did, in due course, and they continued on to the ritual grounds

"So good of farmer Cain to host." Mr. Trisket posed to their nearest be-hooded neighbor.

"Aye, and to maintain the graves here. 'tis such good work of him." the other agreed, nodding somberly.

It was roughly at this point that the ceremonial cow bell was rung, three times, and then three more to signify the start of the ritual.

under her breath "stop fidgeting Todd and keep quiet" Mary chided.

"the robes are itchy!" he complained.

"Deal with it!" Said Mr. Trisket, somewhat more loudly than he should have.

"shhhh" Mrs. Trisket retorted cuffing him on the back of his head.

"All who are hear, bow now in supplication to our lord Satan, the destroyer!" The amplified voice began after a piercing wave of feedback from the PA system.

Under his breath "seriously, you would think the antichrist would be able to find a good AV tech!" Mr. Tricket whispered.

"Bill!" chided Mrs. Trisket

Still, a few whispered giggles could be heard in close proximity.

"Tonight we gather, we true followers, we the followers, the disciples, the true servants…" the amplified voice continued

Mrs. Trisket couldn't contain her sigh as the broadcasted voice droned on. One might begin to think there is uncertainty, who we are…"

Mr. Trisket knew better than to respond to this, as apparently did the nearby followers who had giggled at his previous commentary.

"And Tonight, At the darkening of the planets, at the termination of light from the skys…"

Boom! rumble! A thunder-clap rolled across the gathered throng.

"Wow they're pulling out all the stops tonight!" Mr. Trisket commented

"Cool!" Todd added.

"I really don't think…" Mrs. Trisket began, but was interrupted by the flash of lightening that decimated one of farmer Cain's line of oak trees.

"Ah… perhaps we should…"

Then the rain started. No, wait, was it… yep it was… Hail.

"God damm it!" Mrs. Trisket chided. "Figures."

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