The sweltering sun beat mercilessly down upon the inhabitants of the Incan city. A casual observer would notice that the drab stone houses were devoid of their normal occupants. If that same visitor were to travel through the center of the city he would come to the temple where all the villages inhabitants were gathered. One might ask what event caused this displacement of inhabitants from their normal duties. The answer lies in the top of the temple where the chief priest, dressed in all the colors of a garden in spring, stood surrounded by the other priests dressed in a similar garb. For this was sacrifice day. Upon the unforgiving cold stone alter bespattered with blood lay the helpless sacrifice. Some unfortunate soul that could have come from a battle or maybe he just happened to be at the wrong place in the wrong time. It mattered not where. The victim screamed and pleaded to be released, but his pleas landed on deaf ears as the priests gagged him and bound him to that hard alter. The sacrifice gave one last gallant effort to break free of his cruel bonds and then fell silent as he awaited his doom. The priest raised his right hand high above his soon to be sacrifice as the fingers of the priest clenched his curved obsidian knife. Would he relent? Would he release his victim out of a moment of love and compassion? NO! The hand of the priest flew in a devilish downward arc. Like a lion pouncing on his panic stricken prey, the knife cut ever downward. Down to the chest of the victim. Down to the death of this innocent soul the hand of the priest flew like the bird of prey represented on the helmet that the priest bore. Now the priest has plunged the knife into the soft flesh of his victim. The priest's prey gave one last utterance and lay forever quiet as the predator lifted up its victims heart up to the sun. As the blood streamed down the priests once colorful robes something unexpected happened. The heart slipped out the priests hands and fell to the stone floor of the temple. The crowd gasped. This had never happened before. Ashamed that he had spoiled the ceremony, the priest bent down to pick up the heart. Suddenly the heart stood up on its life giving veins and unsheathed a small dagger. Like Beowulf killing the dragon, the heart stabbed the priest multiple times. The hunter became the hunted. The predator became the prey as the heart of the priest's victim slew the priest. As he lay dying the priest gasped. Help I am having a heart attack!!!
Happy Valentines Day!
Please do not have a heart attack or get attacked by heart!
No comments:
Post a Comment