A noble blood sacrifice

The graveyard

There is a headstone at the foot of my bed. There is no name or message. Just a dry granite stone buried above my feet. I fight to pull my feet out of the soil. The headstone tilts a little bit. Not the dramatic tilt I was expecting with the force I used. There is a bush baby crying in a tree. One of many trees that forced their way out of the ground so I can’t pinpoint the exact one the bushbaby is crying from. The trees themselves are whistling softly. 
 
The gentle yet ice cold breeze is causing my teeth to clatter. That’s when I notice the hooded figure. Packed inside a sinful black footlong coat that gleams under the silver moonlight. Bright orange eyes peering through the hood. The figure lifts a hand and beckons me with a branchlike finger. I want to run away but my heart tells me I have no choice. I struggle to my feet that are now injured after pulling them out from under the headstone. I drag myself towards the figure. I say drag because half of me is injured and my other half doesn’t want to do what I’m being coaxed into doing. 
 
With my strong urge to look around, I realise we are in a graveyard with many varying graves. There is one particular grave that catches my eye. It seems to have caught the eye of the mysterious figure as well. The grave is fashioned after a guillotine. A shining blade twice the size of my shoulders hangs between two pillars standing on either side. Acting as the headstone. The blade comes down right after the mysterious figure walks through the contraption. Making that metal sound as the blade hits the ground. Rising slowly back into position with no assistance. 
 
The figure is watching me with an air of impatience. My stomach does not agree with what I’m about to do. I’m genuinely afraid. But if I don’t follow this… this person? Who’s to tell what will happen. I accept my fate and approach the guillotine. Why walk through the guillotine and not anywhere around it? I wish I knew. The blade rubs against the granite pillars as it comes down for my head. Pushing forward with my left foot, I catch a slight burst of speed. Carrying me through unharmed to the other side as the blade comes crashing down. I feel the wind force on my right ankle in the millisecond it takes to pull the foot through. 
 
The other side of the guillotine, the actual grave, is a descending passage. The further down it goes, the more it bends. The walls are lined with illuminating vines and fungus. We reach the bottom where were greeted by various relatives of mine who have passed on. They look like they are in a daze of some kind. With the presence of mind to somehow welcome us. Albeit mindlessly. We continue forward my guide and I. Into some kind of a kitchen. 
 
There are people half buried under the checkered tiles. Begging to be freed as knives fall from racks above them. Some missing while some hit their targets. Two foot men with flesh eating leeches for hands are taunting the people. Some of the people are screaming as the two foot men do more than taunt. The screams are confined to this room as the sounds die down as soon as they leave the victims mouths. My guide keeps moving so I do the same. 
 
We enter a room filled with daisies. All the heads are closed but the pollen is floating everywhere. This is because army ants are disturbing them. Just a mass of the tiny terrors with creeping crawling sounds dominating the room. There is movement on the floor. A closer inspection reveals people covered in the armies blanket formations. Crawling over their skin and inside their orifices. Stifling any cries for help as they crawl in and out of the victim’s mouths. The people are wincing and twisting continuously with no rest. 
 
A middle aged man struggles to his knees. He beginnings digging into his stomach with his finger nails. After much struggle fuelled by visible pain and frustration, his stomach rips open. An ocean of ants bursts out as he collapses back to the floor. Feeling sick, I finally look away from it all. Making sure to catch my breath properly, I continue following my guide. We enter a spider’s lair. Cobwebs and trapped insects everywhere. I can hear wings fluttering all over the room. Checking myself to make sure I haven’t been trapped as well. 
 
My guide ducks inside one of the cocoons situated in random parts of the various nests. After some time, they re-appear with a drinking vessel. Holding it with much care. I am offered the contents. Upon closer inspection, it is revealed to be blood. My guide is close enough for me to make out some of their distinguishing features. They are about my height in size. Thinner than they appear from a distance. With a C shaped scar on their chest that I see in a glance as their coat waves aside slightly from the gesture of handing me the vessel. They motion at me to drink. I take a deep breath and hold it. Then bring the vessel to my mouth. I pause just before the contents reach my lips. 
 
With my eyes closed, I begin chugging down the blood. The taste is what I expect. Iron. But theres that other flavour that I can never put my finger on. Blood is tolerable in small quantities. The larger the amount, like if you get punched in the mouth. Or if you get a puncture wound on your body and you try to save yourself from over-bleeding by drinking some of the blood. That’s when it gets too much. That’s what it’s feeling like at this moment. My gag reflex is giving in. But I have just a little more swallowing to go. ‘Gag reflex don’t fail me now,’ I think. 
 
Afraid of what might happen if I fail, I meditate really hard. Separating myself from my feelings. Becoming the blood as it travels down my intestines. By the time it’s over, I’m drunk and feeling invincible. Swaying from side to side with blurred sight. I’m not sure but it looks like my guide is motioning for me to approach some kind of altar. I do. Almost knocking myself over as I misjudge it’s proximity. Instinctively, I strip naked and lay down on top of it. 
 
My guide begins to flail their hands all over my body. The room immediately snows. Real snow that touches my face and melts. At the same time, some kind of silky substance is covering my body. The guide keeps flailing their arms and hands. The silky substance looks like it’s coming from their fingers. My inebriation is wearing down. Before long I am completely covered from head to toe before I finally figure out that the silky substance is … silk.
 
It’s surprisingly warm inside this cocoon I’m in. Quite too. Dead silent as a matter of fact. I can’t even hear my own breathing. My body is as stiff as a log and I’m losing consciousness. I’m wrapped so tight that my chest can’t heave to take a breath. None of my body parts can struggle. Not even my toes. This is some kind of silky coffin. A sad, lonely feeling overwhelms me. The airtight concealment means my tears can’t even leave my eyes. My pupils are burning from the water pressure that’s built up with nowhere to go. 
 
The lack of oxygen and just about anything else means I die in excruciating and frustrating pain. Then wake up back in my bed. Rubbing my eyes furiously. Tears streaming down my face. My chest in agony as I take deep breath after deep breath. I almost break my neck trying to locate the light switch. I thought I knew it off by heart but apparently not. One misstep causes me to fall at a 90 degree angle. Fast reflexes allow me to break the fall with my shoulder rather than my head or the twisting of my neck. Painful but preferable. My vision is hazy as I try to look at myself in the wardrobe mirror. I blink rapidly until most of my sight returns. 
 
I can’t believe my eyes. There is a C shaped emblem on my chest. Freshly branded. It stings like hell so it’s definitely real. There is no explaining it. All I can tell at this point is that my new friend is not the kind of friend my worst enemy would appreciate. 
 
This was the beginning of my journey. My self discovery of learning that every action has a reaction. Whether it was on purpose or intended. We summoned entities for some kind of revenge that fateful night. Suffered the consequences immediately. I didn’t intend on killing her. But those consequences are haunting me to this day.