Sign up to EliteSkills




Already have an account? Login to Roleplay.Cloud
Forgot password? Recover Password

The Wicker Burrow


Author: mikepyro7
ASL Info:    15. Male. TX
Elite Ratio:    2.11 - 21 /41 /30
Words: 900
Class/Type: Story /Dark
Total Views: 610
Average Vote:    5.0000
Bytes: 5522



Description:


A village's bizzare ritual ends darkly.


The Wicker Burrow



“Don’t do this! You don’t have to do this!” Caine screamed, kicking and fighting the two strong hands that pulled him to his doom.

“It is for the good of the village, Caine! Don‘t fight!” Samuel, the other ‘chosen’ cried.

“No! Samuel, they’re going to kill us!”

The band reached the top of the hill. Caine continued fighting, beside him Samuel stood, his eyes ablaze in glory. Below them stood the burrow. Hundreds of logs and branches were piled together. Reaching out to the heavens were two large stakes, buried deep in the wood.

As the small band began their descent down the steep hill, the villagers ran forth, dancing and chanting in their nature god’s tongue. Some wore shaded masks of black veil, others robes of pure white flowers, hung from string and yarn.

The village head, Ezekiel, raised his hands into the air. The chanting quieted, the dancing ceased. Only the sounds of Caine’s struggling and the band’s approaching steps could be heard.

“Please cease this madness, what has become of you!? Please, listen to the voice of the lord!” Caine cried.
“Silence!” Ezekiel snapped, striking Caine across the face with the wooden switch he held.

Caine fell silent, enduring the blows, Behind him Samuel shifted uncomfortably, his face fell for a moment, then returned to its former madness. Ezekiel raised his hands once again for silence. His voice rose higher and higher with each word he spoke to the crowd.

“My brothers. My sisters. My sons and daughters. My family. You have followed me for so long. Never have I failed you, until now. Our crops have dwindled and died. I have failed you. Forgive me and I shall restore our crops to their former glory!”

Ezekiel finished and the crowd began to cheer. He spun to face Caine and Samuel, his eyes empty and cold. The cheering stopped.

“The gods demand retribution. They demand sacrifice-”
“And what if they fail?” Caine interrupted, “What if the crops die next year?”
“They Won’t.” Ezekiel whispered.

With a shake of his hand Ezekiel signaled the band, which began to move toward the burrows. Eight men from the crowd came forth. In their hands they held flaming torches, crackling with sparks. Samuel passed the men and began to climb the pile to the top. Caine fought the whole way, even as the men tied him to the stake. The band returned to the crowd, leaving only Samuel and Caine, tied in place, on the burrow.

Ezekiel snapped his fingers and the eight men rushed forth, setting the torches in a circle at the bottom of the burrow, pulling away as the fires began.

“The lord has washed away your crops in floods, burned them with drought, not your nature god! Repent! Repent and though shall be saved! Repent!” Caine screamed.

“Accept your fate, as Samuel has. This is the only way, we shall be smiled upon.” Ezekiel replied.

The flames had passed the halfway point of the burrow. Thick gray smoke issued from the fire. Caine’s face was soaked in sweat from the heat and struggle, but Samuel stood still, resignation splashed across his face.

Caine let his hand open slightly, allowing a better grip on the small pocketknife he’d hidden in his enclosed fist. The crackle of the flames grew deeper as they rose into the air. Caine’s eyes watered and he began to cough violently. With damp hands he began to cut at the ropes that bound his arms.

Suddenly, a bout of flame issued, singing his hand and causing him to cry out. He watched in horror as the knife fell to the flames below.

“You can stop this now, please, don’t become murders!” Caine pleaded, shaking his hands, trying to break free.

The flames rose higher still, searing Caine’s feet and spitting crisp sparks at his face. Caine wrists were red and raw from the struggle, blood slid slowly down his hands.

“The time is at hand! So shall we give ourselves to the land, to the gods!” Samuel shrieked, laughing and cackling with delight.

The villagers began to chant and dance, twirling in a wild ritual, until their bodies were nothing but a blur of wild colors.

“Dear Lord, save me from this fate. Don’t force me to endure the fires of hell itself, please Lord,” Caine prayed, turning his head to face Samuel.

“Samuel, please repent, don’t die with this vile belief in your heart.”
“Don’t try and trick me Caine.”
“Samuel listen to me, I’m not trying to trick you! Samuel, when our mother died she told me to look after you, and I failed her! I failed her, Samuel!”

Caine let out a cry of pain, for his pants began to catch the flames. Samuel’s eyes flew open and he looked into his brother’s eyes.

“Nicolas...” he whispered, using his brother’s first name.
“Pray Samuel! Just pray!”

Caine watched with silent grief as his brother screamed in pain and prayer. Samuel finally fell silent as the flames reached his chest. Caine let out a final shout.

“Good lord, let me into your open arms! Dear God, please! Jesus! JEESUSS!!"
From below the burrow, the village danced. Ezekiel lowered his arms and smiled....




Submitted on 2006-10-09 14:13:19     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
Edit post

Rate This Submission

1: >_<
2: I dunno...
3: meh!
4: Pretty cool
5: Wow!




Comments


  I think you did an OUTSTANDING jon on this! I can definitely see talent here! Pursue your talent, it's there!
| Posted on 2006-10-09 00:00:00 | by mary74 | [ Reply to This ]


Think Feedback more than Compliments :: [ Guidelines ]

1. Be honest.
2. Try not to give only compliments.
3. How did it make you feel?
4. Why did it make you feel that way?
5. Which parts?
6. What distracted from the piece?
7. What was unclear?
8. What does it remind you of?
9. How could it be improved?
10. What would you have done differently?
11. What was your interpretation of it?
12. Does it feel original?



121043