Dark smoke rose through twisted branches to touch the grey clouds in the sky.
The mood was powerful in its place amoung the stars.
It's white light never to be faded by the smoke of the fire.
Red flakes of burning crisps danced in the air as hoods as dark as night surrounded the heaping flame.
Like the Red Sea they parted, their sickly voices calling out to thier ruler as their knees touched the cold dirt.
"THE GODS HAVE DANCED IN THE CLOUDS THAT HAVE RAINED UPON US!"
The leader spoke, his gold cape flashing under the moon, the fire in front of him had no comparison to his light.
"THEIR THRONES MADE OF OUR SKULLS AND THIER PLATTERS FULL OF THE ANIMALS WE BLED OVER!"
He took his place in front of the alter, a stone slab, cold and rough, just like the man in front of it.
"IT IS ONLY RIGHT WE DO THE SAME!"
The men roared as a red cloaked figure made its way up, a small being in his hands before he laid the limp body across the stone.
"LET GOLD BLOOD WASH OUR SILKS AND TONGUES!"
The dagger shined bright under the moon light as he raised it above his head,
"LET THIS BE A WARNING TO THE MEN ABOVE US!"
Gold painted the stone as he tore the being limb for limb as the men roared. Clouds circled above as the man dipped his fingers into the blood and brought it to his lips,
"WE WILL BE GODS!"
The men rushed over like rabid beasts, tearing the little body apart until nothing remained but a small gold stain.