Entry 17: Sacrifce and Mutany

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I had a dream. I'm alone under the ocean. All alone until the fish start floating up around me. They are dead, more than dead. They are cooked perfectly, but I don't eat them. The corpse of my brother floats up, and I eat him instead. I eat his raw flesh, and he talks to me while I do, but I can't hear him under the water. Except for his last four words. They cut through clearly.

"Your brain is rotten."

That's when I feel my stomach growling, and the line of pinches running straight through my head like a zipper catching on everything as it opens.

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I woke up in a tent surrounded by little blue goblins, all staring at me in awe. The old woman came through the door screaming and waving her arms until they all scattered and fled the tent. She motioned for me to follow her outside, where the sound of drums led a parade.

Mute fell in beside me, and we walked past rows of huts. Families stood outside each and watched us move to the center of the town. A massive pyre was built in a circle of drummers and onlookers. Tied to the front of the wood was a naked Ron.

I tried to say something to Mute, but as soon as we arrived in the circle, the drums stopped. Ron was screaming and cussing, saying things like 'inbred smirfs' and 'punk ass little createns who would throw up the second they ate his ass'. Then, the wise woman slit his throat.

No speech, no ceremony, no explanation or warning. She slit his throat, and another pygmy set a torch in the fire. Ron's eyes met mine as he choked on his own blood. There were tears in his eyes, and it finally dawned on me that all of his rage and privilege was never directed at us. It was only ever directed at the world that kept him from saving a little girl's life with every cruelty it could throw at him.

I watched the whole thing. I couldn't have stopped them if I wanted, but I was so hungry. This was my plan a few days ago anyway, so why did it matter?

More drums sounded as Ron's eyes closed. Different drums. Warning drums coming from outside of the village. War drums.

The thunder of hooves was far more powerful than the pygmies evil goats. The herd of Chimera washed over the hill and tore into the huts. Some of the villagers tried to mount up and fight. Some tried to run, but they were pounced on, ripped to shreds, stung repeatedly by scorpion tails, and impaled by tusks.

More than any of that, rocks cracked open the skulls of pygmies around us. Rocks that Blain slung from the back of a tail-less chimera as he led the charge. The beast was bucking so wild that I don't know how he could aim. Five fell around us with stones lodged in their skull. A chimera leapt onto Ron's corpse and pulled him out of the fire by the neck.

Blain's mount grabbed onto the wise woman and shook her like a ragdoll. Her bone jewelry rang like a wind chime.

Me and Mute jumped onto the back of the beast, and Blain steered us out of the village. Javelin's and flaming rocks flew wild over our heads, but the chimera kept running for what seemed like miles.

It kept running until the storm hit. A blizzard struck that covered the earth in minutes. Then our mount slowed down to a stop and fell over dead.

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