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Warning: detailed horror and gore
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You felt sweat oozing out of your pores and soon coating your body. Your breath started to pick up until it was uncountable. Your ragged breath caught the attention of your fellow villagers. Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes as your body shook.
Laying on your bed was a pure purple hyssop. A plant that looked similar to wisterias. The flower of sacrifice. You were chosen. Hands soon grabbed a hold of you making your breath catch in your throat. You dared to turn around seeing the sickly sweet and proud smiles on your family, friends, and other's faces. They were so influenced by your father that they loved you being eaten by a demon was destiny and a gift. The worst smile of all was your father's.
You begged your father not to choose you. You begged.
Pleaded with him not to choose you. That you were sorry for allowing Kyojuro to get close. He said he forgave you.
Your other walked towards you and placed both hands on your cheeks. You began crying when his warm skin came in contact with your cold. It took everything in you not to pull away. The warmth wasn't like Kyojuro's. it won't be friendly, it doesn't remind you of a fireplace. It reminded you of what the hell would feel like.
The heat insulted your skin. It felt like sitting in from of a fire during the hottest days. The heat along with your panic made your body sweat more. You shook as you cried on your knees. You turned to your father a pleading look in your eyes.
"Father", you croaked.
"My daughter...has been chosen", your father began talking to everyone instead of just you. "The demon has decided to keep protecting our home for another century!"
The villagers cheered hearing your father's words. You released a ragged breath shocked that he ignored your obvious plea for help.
The women grabbed a hold of you like chains latching on every skin they could reach clinging to you like a person's destiny. Pulling you to your feet, they dragged you away basically carrying you to one of the changing rooms. You allowed them to strip you down forcing and tearing the clothes off your body. You stood still as they dressed you in the ritual clothes while sobbing. The women either sang a song about their demonic savior or said praises about being the chosen one to try to get you to stop crying.
Once your body was covered in the mountain of flowers their hands latched onto you again. They cling to you like fathers walking one daughter down an aisle. You were escorted outside your home. In front of you was a long white carpet that stopped at the pole in the center of the town.
