Star Light, Star Bright

Can you hear it in the distance? The steady whoosh of the wind caressing the sides of the mountains? It’s still a ways away, taunting me as I lie naked and cold on this sacrificial stone.

The others insist that I am the reason for this wind. The howling monster that rips through the mountain tops and beats down the tops of the mesas. I’ve plead with them, trying my best to convince them it’s not my fault, yet they do not listen.

Maybe part of it is my fault. The gods have chosen me several times to work as their messenger. Each time I’ve come back and preached their existence and the good work they wish to do for us. Each time I am ignored.

The men that have strapped me down are frightened by what is to come. Their minds are small and feeble. They can only grasp the concept of one God, The God, and cannot comprehend that there may be more.

More as in the many that are coming in like the tide. The wind ushers them forward and in the flash of lightning amongst the clouds I can see the scared faces of my captors.

Each man is red and sweating. All wear various shirts without sleeves, a way to escape the desert heat during the day. I cannot help but question if they regret their clothing now, with the wind blowing in the usual cold front.

I look westward and I see it coming. A low hanging cloud that has the vehicle of the gods hidden inside of it. Around me, my captors begin to shuffle uneasily, looking for their own tools of destruction. It’s too late for them.

One of the men, the one that captured me, wildly grabs for his machete. The wind is picking up now, with the trees groaning from the gale-esque winds that are pounding down on them from above.

The vehicle of the gods is above me and I can feel the steady thrum of the engine vibrating everything in a 10 mile radius. My captors look scared and for a moment, I think my rescuers will prevail.

But then the gun shots began to fire up into the air at a rapid pace. I try to shout over the commotion, but it doesn’t matter. I turn and get one last view of the man with the machete. He’s bringing it close to my throat as a beam of light begins to pull my body skyward.

They’re going to save me, I think to myself. But it never happens. I feel a sharp ripping sensation across my neck and my body flops heavily back onto the stone. The gods take off into the distance, disappearing amongst the storms they brought in.

I feel the heat of my blood begin to pool around my body as my sight darkens. Can you hear it? The sounds of fear around me as the men that took my life struggle to explain what happened. Good, is all I can manage to think before I drift into the ether. Let them dwell on what happened here.

Author: tynoel

Professional writer and blogger. Author of the book A Monstrous Tomorrow.

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