The Lamb In Hell

The Cult's Sacrifice

Strapped to a pentagram. That's how you started your night after trying to get some sleep - you worked how many hours as a cashier at a grocery store and being belittled and insult by customer after customer was not on your to-do list.

You expected to wake up to birds chirping outside your window - not the full moon above you and people hiding under red robes.

'A cliché.' You thought , always the red robes- what was sticking to your body? Why was it warm? Wet . . . WAS THAT A BODY OF A LAMB?!

The body of the lamb was . . . disfigured to say the least, limbs contorted the wrong way and belly ripped open. There was no blood, only organs.

Where was the blood? (That was the only thing your fearful mind was focused on. The only thing it could focus on!) The blood in question was spread on the pentagram - absorbed in the cracks, and also poured on you- poured on you?!

You screamed. It's all you could do- until someone wrapped a cloth around your head, leaving you muffled, still screaming, but muffled.

"Silence!" Someone, wearing a simple white cloak, practically roared, and that voice. That voice sent shivers down your spine. It was so cold, so heartless, so full of hatred.

Inhaling and exhaling rapidly, having used up your voice by screaming and instead, silenced by the words of the - who you assumed to be - leader.

"We, the members his Cult, gather here today to offer a sacrifice. To our mighty lord in hopes he will bring the end of days and save our souls from eternal damnation." The Cult started to chant, "Save our souls." over and over.

"Souls need saving!" The Leader shouted.

"Souls need saving!" The Cult responded.

. . . THE FUCK DO THEY MEAN, SOULS NEED SAVING!? In what world would a make-believe god or sinner or whatever want human sacrifices in exchange for saving their own souls?! Makes no fucking sense!

Outrage settled on your face and the leader, the audacity, slapped you and wiped the hand on his cloak like you were a germ. If he- why-

You stared at him incredulously, your cheek already stinging. You weren't going to cry though- too enraged at the fact that people woke you up for this! This! A ritual that won't even work!

"Do not use your foul tongue in our presence! Do not cry for help when no help with come to a human like you." Your eyes widened as the cult started a low chant of words you couldn't decipher.

Your eyes roamed around, fearful and afraid. You didn't know what the cult was going to do- wait- you knew that stance. There was only one person that stood like that. Their head lowered to the ground, always.

Your little sister, Molly. She, she was a part of this?

It seemed she felt eyes on her cause Molly looked up and beneath that hood you saw eyes, crying eyes, eyes that expressed sorrow and pain, but also . . . disgust, disgust for you.

Disgust that you've been dealing with for the past few weeks ever since you fought with your parents about how you didn't believe in Heaven or Hell, that you never believed in that!

So, they scorned you and ignored you, but your siblings did not - at least Molly didn't since you've raised her from day one, your mother too . . . tired to even lift a finger (tired being an understatement).

"Wait!" Another voice, one that made your eyes widen. It was your father's voice! Had he come to help you? Save you?! Please! Please save you- you don't know why Molly's here but-

Your father stepped out and your heart immediately dropped to your stomach, beating, pounding, against your intestines, shouting fearful things into your head.

The person you thought would save you, your father, was wearing the same robes as the cultists. "What is the meaning of this, Elder L/n?" The leader demanded and your father approached, your wide eyes set on him the whole time, silently begging him to help you- wait, Elder? He's been a part of this Cult for a long time?!

"I'd like to say a few words, to thank my family." Your father said and your brain stopped working, stopped everything, you even forgot how to breathe in that moment.

"Very well, approach." The leader stepped back and your father took their place.

"I'd like to thank you all for allowing me and my family to offer this blasphemer a purpose." You tried to cry out, try to yell, scream, anything, but you had nothing left in you, you had given up (quickly once you realized it was hopeless to fight).

"A higher purpose than their life that was given them that they have ungratefully lived." Your father spat, his saliva landing on your cheek and you flinched like it had burned you. As if the liquid was molten lava, but it wasn't, it was mere saliva.

"For that, we are grateful that our dark lord will accept this offering. In hopes he will bless our souls in exchange for a cursed one." The Cult cheered, clapping their hands and thanking your father for his offering.

His- he did this to you?!

Why- why would he do this?! Why would he bring Molly to this, drag her into something so twisted and so wrong!

When you turned to look at Molly again, a silent plea in your eyes for her to help - they widened once more in surprise and shock. Your mother was there with her, no cloak, hand on her shoulder, and glaring at you with the same amount of disgust in her eyes that everyone else had for you.

. . . What had you done to deserve this? . . .

"Father, wait!" Brother- your brother's, Kit's, voice! Was he coming to save you? Help you? Please, please, please-

"I want to be the one to do it. Get rid of cursed blood and bring the family honor back to their rightful place." Then, you were struggling again, trying to move, escape, anything!

"I'll join him." The small, petite voice of Molly spoke up, you couldn't help but stare, stare at who you thought you could trust, love, and care for the most: your family.

You stared at your sister, your little sister that you've raised, your parents; just what have you done to deserve this?

"Very well." Your father hummed, a proud smile on his face- proud? Proud?! Now you felt angryz

"Sacrifice the non-believer!" Your father shouted and the crowd parted like a disturbing Red Sea, their cloaks moving like rippling water . . . it was disturbing, but not as disturbing as the BLOOD OF THE LAMB THAT STILL COVERED YOU!

You struggled once more, shouting behind the cloth, angry yelling coming from your throat as you cursed and cursed them to high heaven (though there was no such place).

You paused, watching as your little sister and brother walked forward, towards the pentagram, towards you . . . Towards a knife.

Fear consumed you as you connected two and two together - they intended to kill you - to actually sacrifice you!

Together, the two you raised, loved the most, picked up the knife and held it over your chest - you shook your head, trying to plead with them.

"I'm sorry." Molly mouthed from underneath her cloak and your brother just smiled wickedly, "Let the sacrifice determine the fate of the world!"

Then, you were stabbed straight in the heart and you screamed, screamed in anger, agony, and fear!

It was all you could do as the pain absorbed you even till your final moments. . .

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(Tell me what you think of this chapter, does it need improvement? Or do you like it the way it is?)