Bride Of Death: Subversion

Preface

The barren heath smelled strongly of burned charred bodies of both animals and humans. The air stinking of putrid flesh and something undefinably disgusting that was strongly stinging the nostrils of the man as he trudged up the dry blackened pathway to the mound where a group of people was gathered.
The ash stricken faces of unbothered men and women with their unseeing and faded milky eyes bored into the soul of the man, as he heaved a heavy sigh, looking down at the newborn baby he had forcibly removed from its mother's arms while his men had sliced her neck.
The gurgling blood has splattered all across his face as he was bending down to snatch the child up. The strange man's face looked both gruesome and horrendous yet it seemed not to bother the spectators who stood with their dead eyes; unblinking and awaiting.
His heavy dark rugged boots were dripping with soft black mud upon which he treaded up, making his footsteps bulky and heavy. The air carried a silence so deafening that the crackling of fire seemed to almost disturb the ghostly calm lulling heath.
The barren mound seemed war trodden, with bodies strewn across the field in a bloody massacre, some burning, others half burnt and rotten, while others lay unbothered with their pale eyes staring up at nothing, not a mark indicating the reason of their death.
The gathering separated as the man walked through the crowd towards the huge fire burning in the middle. It looked like an altar, with a blazing fire, smelling strongly of fragrant spices, and something like acetone.
A Woman stood in-front of the altar, her back facing the approaching man, wearing a dark ruby robe, it's a luxury and polished bejeweled appearance a stark contrast to the old, rugged and worn down blacked tunics surrounding it.
The woman was whispering an incantation in a tongue unknown to the man, the whispering akin to the hissing sounds of a snake as it twirls its body around looking through its beady black eyes hunting for innocent prey.
The crackling fire dimmed for a second before burning up brightly, the flames higher than the man standing right in the middle of it, his body tied to a stake, the horned ropes cutting into his skin drawing blood, his face turned up, a permanent grimacing and ache filled expression frozen in place.
The woman nodded her head, her tiny body almost swaying in excitement over the next preceding scene, her little hands fisted at her side, her chanting rising in crescendo, the calm surrounding them unbroken.
It seemed as if the whole world was awaiting the scene with bated breath, holding onto their hearts, waiting for absolution , a reprieve.
The woman stopped her incantation, her chest rising and falling in a passionate stupor. She closed her eyes and nodded her head.
The man nodded in turn, a silent agreement, his eyes scrunching shut as if a sudden pain had inflicted upon him by some invisible force.
Shaking his head he stepped forward, the seemingly sleeping child suddenly woke up, an unknown fear tingling its senses, it's grey eyes blown open wide, holding its breath ready for something changing, a metamorphosis of the sort.
The man dropped the grey-eyed baby into the fire.
The altar almost blasted up, the fire blowing up, almost touching the sky, it's force exploding in a booming thunder throwing the gathering across, the fire licking across their faces.
A new beginning seemed nearer.