The Chosen Blood

“47 minutes. 47 minutes left to bring him to us and summon the forgotten ones we shall.” Yelled Samuel Clark from beyond the cabin. “Nay! Rot within the Nether below! He stays with us damn it!” Alistair Wilson spat back. Others barricaded within the cabin’s confines were realizing alternative motives, seeing as their live plunged more in danger. “Maybe it’s best.” Squeaked forth a minuscule man, pathetic in nature. Alistair hastily looked over his shoulder, “Piss off Sparks!” he spit; Sparks nervously jumping back proceeding to cower as was the norm.

Glaring among the meek of the room, “More inquiries, or quips?” Alistair queried. Shouting from outside. “There’s only two ways to choose! He’s the only one we want; it’s not impossible to make another of him.” “Hell’s bells, the nerves!” he responded thunderously. Daniel Wilson clung feverishly to his father, a boy of only seven. Tears were coated around his eyes, and nose was dripping anxious mucus; small whimpers escaping him.

Murmurs of irritation, to exclude Sparks, were arising although not taking to real form. Alistair was aware a decision would have to be made but he would fight to his bitter end to prevent such a fate for his son. “Waiting! Wasting bleeding time! Sure, there’s some left, but we aren’t much the lingering type!” Ignoring this and while clutching his son tighter looking down at him. Back now up looking to the additional five occupying the space with their eyes all locking with his.

“What dare say you?” he asked, “Sure, it’s not your child here. You wouldn’t know, but I see most of you don’t care.” George spoke up, “We do…but…they’ll find a…bloodier alternative. Might as well just tell the boy to whisper a final prayer; you as well... and bestow him to Clark.” “Aye!” they all agreed. Time depleted rapidly as the 38-minute mark hit with 2 AM approaching.

Clouds swirled menacingly overhead with mysterious light among them with producing an orange hue of sorts. What vulgarity was at work? Why did Daniel’s blood have to be this of the chosen? Samuel’s smile contorted across his face as he looked toward the sky. Eager as he was to shed blood to secure possession of the boy, he felt a twisted kindness to give them a mild allotment of time to sort their affairs. Only an Inkling. Preparations were still needed for completion of the ritual.

The restless folks inside the cabin gathered around for a definitive decision on what to do with Daniel and their own lives. The boy was sobbing relentlessly into his father’s shirt, but sympathy lacked on the weary faces of the other trapped. “Alistair, for Christ’s sake just give him to them. Who knows, maybe the boy will survive the ritual and you can reclaim him.” Said Henry a stout man with unkempt hair and beard to match. Daniel shuddered again and Alistair helplessly tried to soothe his boy wrapping an arm around him bringing him closer.

“And have the forgotten one wrecking their wretchedness upon this world once more? I’d rather more kill the entire lot of us than have that happen!” The group moved in closer to him and his boy. Alistair let go of Daniel and unsheathed a rather large knife from concealment under his pant leg. The others froze. They weren’t armed, at least not with a blade such as that. Fire blazed in Alistair’s eyes as his deepened his glare at the other five. “Let’s take it from him!” Squeaked up Sparks. “Sparks, Piss off.” Replied Henry giving him a harsh elbow to his collar bone knocking the disgraced man to the floor.

“I was only saying…” choked out Sparks. Henry focused his attention back onto Alistair and the knife. “Surely you don’t think you’ll be able to murder all of us at once.” He said condescendingly. “I’ll do what I must. Maybe… let’s talk.” Responded Alistair. “We already are. Enough child’s play and hand him over he said rolling up his sleeves. Daniel was cowering behind his father clinging to his pant leg. “I said there’s another way, not a preferred way for any of us, but it’ll keep Clark and the rest from unleashing that darkness upon the rest of our people. You all know they’re indebted to the forgotten ones.”

Intimidating orange and red light from the outside sky now illuminating the room giving it a hue reminding one of the Nether itself. Samuel wouldn’t wait much longer, neither would the evil and 2 AM wouldn’t arrive any slower. “You see…” continued Alistair taking a step forward with Daniel letting go but staying close. “I know of some poison vials in this cabin hidden within the floorboards. It’s not ordinary poison, however. There is a chance of survival. If, and by this, I mean when Clark and his men get in here; he’ll kill us all and get my son regardless.”

“Damn it Alistair, get to the point. Are you saying you bloody want me, yourself…. your son, and the others to drink poison? POISON?” Henry said defiantly. “Yes. Yes, this is exactly what I propose. You all have some choices and we all must decide. Drink this poison with a chance of survival, have myself kill as many of you possible with this knife until subdued by attempting to offer my child as a sacrifice for his blood, or having Clark come in to kill all of us and get my boy.”

“He’s got a point” Spoke up Sparks shockingly… again. A man standing by Sparks hit him. Hard. “You don’t understand the meaning of piss off eh? That being said,” rolling of eyes, “what is your choice?” “P-p-poison he barely choked out.” “So says Aye” replied the man. “Aye!” spoke up the other two. The Orange Red hue of the light still twisting about the cabin. “Oh, Hell’s Bells! I’ll say Aye as well. What happens if this poison doesn’t kill us? And how do you know Samuel won’t still try to offer your boy’s blood to the forgotten one even while he is dead or assumed so.”

“Daniel would need to be alive for them to use his blood. They would kill him once the offering is accepted.” Suddenly there was a loud CRACK sound as the vile crowd outside started tearing the door down. “Well, get to it!” Yelled Daniel. Alistair knelt down and pried up a floorboards, removed some vials of poison and proceeded to set the floorboard back in place. “You’ll have to Share.” He said while tossing a couple vials to the other five and keeping one for himself and Daniel.

“Time’s up! Yelled Samuel Clark outside, “The boy’s chosen blood we’ll be ours!” He hadn’t been aware of the poison inside. A rare poison that if a man or child survived would wake up after two days’ slumber. However, it could just a so kill you by having an adverse reaction. The other five drank their poison by the unanimous decision and one by one slumped to the floor. Daniel reluctantly drank the bitter liquid and his father downed some himself falling unconscious.

The door broke and the mob charged in to find them all on the floor with an appearance of death. Samuel walked in and roared in anger at the sight. He should’ve come in sooner. The forgotten ones would take their debt for this disappointment. Blood, chosen or not, was indeed better than receiving no blood at all. Soon 2 AM would hit and the punishment would come. The fate of the unconscious ones on the floor would be determined in two days. Samuel Clark, nor his men, would live to know of it.