The Sacrifice

At this time, I would like to issue a nice li'l trigger warning for those of us with OCD: if part of your obsessions and/or compulsions are triggered by religious things of any kind, including blasphemy, general discussion of sin, or disturbing religion-related imagery, you may be triggered by reading this story and/or researching the stuff behind it. My OCD is remarkably under control and I haven't been triggered by religious stuff since I was at least 10, but I was a little triggered just from having the nightmare that inspired this, so... 

After requests from friends, I would also like to issue a trigger warning to sexual violence survivors for a brief mention of the possibility of rape. Absolutely no act of sexual violence takes place in this writing, but if you are very sensitive, it may trigger you. Better safe than sorry.

Since I'm covering my ass left and right here, I'm also gonna say you're probably not gonna want to read this before bed or before taking acid or any other hallucinogen. (I, Charlie Cheshire, endorse neither sleep nor the taking of hallucinogens, and I in fact loathe both. Thank you for your time, and now onto the good stuff.)

So this was mainly inspired by a dream I had last night. I was the persona of Gabriel... which is weird 'cause I'm a chick. Whaaaaatever. Please be warned that a particular part of this story (ie the whole first half) is incredibly graphic and there will be religious imagery/references that some people may not be comfortable with. Not for the faint of  heart/stomach. It's a nightmare, guys, and my nightmares are vivid. It's not going to be pretty. 

I woke from an uneasy sleep, with the sensation of fire burning in my trachea. It felt like I'd inhaled flaming whiskey or something. Where am I? The walls were bare; the floor was a desperate sort of concrete; I could see nails that may have once held down a carpet. There was a door across from me. What happened? Why am I - where's Marie? 

A whimper answered my question. Feeling groggy, I tried to use my hand to boost myself into sitting up - but to no avail. My hands were cuffed. Well, this sure as hell isn't jail, so.... "Marie? Marie?"

From somewhere behind me, Marie muttered, "Alex?" Alex is her boyfriend.

"I fucking hope not. It's Gabe. You know, your uterus roommate?"

"Oh, shoot, Gabe, I - " Pause. "What the heck? Where is everything?" 

"Probably back in Kansas where we left it."

"Where are we?" 

"I dunno... can you remember anything before we got here?"

"Weren't we in the woods?"

"Yeah...?"

"I think we were. We were waiting for - "

The door swung open. A salt-and-pepper haired, smirking man, decrepit and reeking of tobacco smoke, entered the room carrying a knife.  This was about when the grogginess took off and the panic settled in. I felt the breath leave my body by osmosis, like all of the air had been sucked out of the room with this strange person's entrance and my body wanted to lighten up the atmosphere. Behind me, I heard Marie scrambling.

"Hello, children." His voice was like oily hair being burnt.

"Who the hell are you?" I demanded in a voice I wanted to be strong. It came out cracking and weak, which kind of made me even more afraid.

"Me?" He knelt next to me, and - I swear - I saw fire burning in his eyes. Not that he was angry or he had a spark about him, no; literal flames were flickering deep within his dark orbitals. "I'm Jezebel's jake, her jack-of-all-trades, her little worshipper." His words chilled my bones, shivering me - but not as much as his reply to Marie's question did.