Of Greed & Hunger (Tommyinnit)

Chapter 1

The offering circle.

Seemingly in the middle of nowhere a large wooden pole stood above them, any outsider would think it strange but not scary, at least not yet. A steel band was wrapped around the top with a thick circle pushing away from the wood, the wood itself had deep marks running along it as if someone had taken a knife to it. Under the pole the sand was stained with blood that never seemed to wash out no matter how much time passed, or rain fell.

Dream along with some other men lifted Tommy out of the box, stringing him up against the wood easily. He was already tired from the hours of travel and his body hurt from being cramped up for that long. Not to mention he was already dehydrated from the lack of water. They had designed the travel method carefully beforehand, not wanting any fuss from the offerings once they reached the circle.

No one had looked back at him when they left.

The cloth gag stopped any choice words he might have or screams of terror alike. The tears streaming down his cheeks eventually lessoned, likely from exhaustion. The sun high above his head started to move and by the time it was setting he could feel himself suffering from sunstroke. Soon the heat would subdue and, in its place, would come a freezing cold, the hostile temperament of the desert showed no mercy.

He would likely be eaten before he could freeze to death.

Tommy struggled to keep his head lifted, each time the sun sunk lower behind the dunes he could feel the fear in his stomach grow. Physically he was strung out very thin, even if he wanted to put up a fight he couldn’t, just swinging his feet forward had already tired him out. He knew there was no point in trying to put up a fight against a Mammon.

The anger he had felt earlier had cooled until it was just a light simmer. The elders taught them that the sacrifices they made were willing, that they chose to go and save the people they loved. That they were honoured and treasured for their bravery.

That was evidently just a pile of horse shit.

The last one to be given to the Mammon had been before his time, they had said it was a woman who lost her new-born child. That she was so overtaken with grief that she made the journey to the circle herself and gave up her life so she and her child could be reunited. It was a story that always had him on the edge of his seat, amazed that someone could care about something that much.

The only person who died around that period, not from old age, had been his mother.

He feels so fucking stupid, how had he not seen it? Had they kept him around only for this? Is this why no one ever wanted to become attached, because he was a lamb raised for the slaughter from the beginning? The thought made him sick, in the place of the anger from earlier betrayal and sadness had uncomfortably settled. He couldn’t keep his mother out of his thoughts, is this the last thing she felt? This all-consuming dread.

Was the sun disappearing behind those dunes the last thing she had seen too?

He could hear the vultures screaming above his head, they must have already sensed he was dead. The gag in his mouth was wet with spit and his hands were starting to lose their feeling, he thought that if he was able to see them they would have to be a nice shade of purple by now. A few hours ago, his bladder had finally given out and his leg had dried to be sticky in the sun. The orange was fading from the sky and creatures of the night starting to wake, the snakes and scorpions and monsters.