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Sure, I jumped out of my skin like a ninny, but by the time I turned toward the speaker, I’d collected myself enough to at least roll my eyes.
“It’s an oxymoron thing, and for the record? I’m totally not a virgin. This pussy has been fucked a lot. So much that the devil wouldn’t want it, understand?” I asked.
Had I just stated my pussy had been fucked a lot? Replaying what I’d said, I realized that, yes, I had just said that, but then I shrugged it off because it’s better to be loose of morals than to be dead because they thought you were a virgin and sacrificed you to the gods, right?
“I doubt your great-grandfather would use it even if it were virginal, Grimoira,” he purred as eyes the color of freshly-sprouted grass slid over my frame.
“What a relief?” I shot back sarcastically.
“That’s not to say I wouldn’t wish to taste of the magick your pretty soul promises to house.”
“Great.” I huffed before turning toward the sound of drums beating in the distance. “Oh, drums are never a good sign.”
It was like the first item on the list of doom and gloom. My heartbeat echoed the thunderous sound as the chanting cult lemmings started moving toward the bright flames visible through the foliage.
“Don’t go toward the light, Moira.” My voice escaped my throat weakly.
If I’d been smarter, I’d have taken my own advice. Sad, really, because I didn’t. Instead, I inched down the heavily wooded path, ignoring the branches scraping over my arms.
Once I’d passed the lines of trees and inched from their protection, I found naked men and women dancing around a large, blazing bonfire.
Black tendrils wafted around them as they chanted and moved while the firelight painted their naked forms. Idiots! Weren’t they afraid that their nether regions would catch fire? They should’ve at least waxed first, right? WasIoverreacting?
Maybe, but it wasn’t every day that I saw naked people dancing around open flames.
The men knelt as the women’s arms lifted to sway and move hypnotically in the air. Sparks from the fire erupted into the sky, and their heads dropped back as if they were drunk on the feeling of being uninhibited in the middle of nature. The way they moved was erotic and soothing at the same time—right until my gaze landed on a large, flat stone that resembled an altar, anyway.
Maybe if I didn’t look at it, it would go away.
Seemed reasonable enough, so I dragged my regard back to the women, and as I watched them, my pulse slowed. They began moving in a way that I wasn’t able to fully process, but it looked almost like someone was bending each woman backward by their hair, making their bodies contort in ways that teetered on falling backward without actually doing so. The women’s mouths dropped open on silent moans, only instead of sounds of pleasure, inky smoke poured from their throats.
“Fuck this shit,” I cried out in horror. I spun and began running blindly through the dense forest.
Altar.
Inky smoke exiting mouths.
Heads bent at angles that should’ve broken their necks.
Did they really expect a girl to stick around and find out what was happening?
Nope! Not this girl.
Not today, Satan. Literally! My lungs burned as I barreled down the hillside, bypassing my grandmother’s truck and the clearing altogether.
I ran like the devil was chasing me. Hysterical laughter was bubbling up from my lungs, which ached from the sharp, shallow inhales. Still, I refused to stop, forcing my arms to pump harder and my feet to keep moving.
The fiery pain in my thighs was agony, but I’d trust-fall off a cliff before stopping my mad-dash. I continued through the foliage, silently praying for someone with some semblance of sanity to appear and save me from becoming a sacrifice that ended up in a cold, unmarked grave.
When my feet hit the asphalt of the main road, I paused long enough to listen for anyone who might be following me, and the hum of an engine met my ears instead. Yup, I’d seen this horror movie too. Evil cultists had hopped into a car and were trying to intercept the poor, virginal bimbo just as she started to think she’d made it to safety.
So, I began running again. I raced the sound of the horses blasting down the country road as my body protested every step forward. At a narrow creek, I didn’t pause long enough to verify I wouldn’t end up drowning before I launched myself off of a rock. The moment my feet landed in the icy water, I sank up to my ankles in silt and shrieked. Falling forward into the water, I tugged on my legs to free my feet and then, cursed when the mud kept my sandals.
By the time I’d escaped the mud, I was soaking wet and barefooted, but there was no way I was stopping. Thistles and thorns bit into the soles of my feet, most of them sinking deeper into my flesh with every step. As I broke free of the forest, I skidded to a stop, gravel and tiny pebbles adding themselves to the list of things I’d be pulling out of feet if I survived, and I stared wide eyed at the car idling not six feet from me. The horn blared as a soft exhale of shock escaped my lips.
“Fuck,” I whispered a split second before something slammed into me.
My body collided with a hard, unforgiving tree, and my breath left my lungs in an explosion of air. Several of the lower limbs had broken under my impact, and one of the spikes still attached to the trunk was cutting into my flesh.
