Page 52 of Bloodmoon Ritual

The Reaping

I had heard of this ritual growing up, but never knew what it was, only that it was supposed to ensure only the fittest whores were allowed back in the camp to service the Congregants.

Back on the bike with my brother, my arms and legs carefully sponged of the physical evidence of his depravity, but he hadn’t scrubbed me clean.

Because I could feel it still, feel his obsession. My hips ached, bloomed with deep bruises where he had held me so tightly, my mouth and cunt still stinging from how hard he had taken me.

We skirted the boundaries of Ronan’s Congregation as the motorcycles slowed down, the miles of dangerous electric fencing humming in the February sun.

“The Garden,” Rhyder said. “Soon it’ll fall. I can’t wait to give you the land, sister.”

He nestled his chin in the crook of my neck, his rough beard scraping at my skin.

“I bet you still recognize the birds,” he said, his mouth full of my flesh.

They wheeled across the sky, dark and bright red shapes.

Of course I did

My brother did not like to be apart, ever, and he often took me hunting, glorying in how quick I was to spot birds, how many names I knew. Now that I had been in the cities I knew that these weren’t the proper names for them, but they all still came back to me. . .scarlet prayer warrior, black devil’s wing, Methuselah’s raptor.

I still knew their names

But again I didn’t give him the satisfaction of my reminiscence, and we rode throughout the day, snacking on dried meat and fruit and keeping Ronan’s lands to the right, only deviating once the sun began to slant downward.

I didn’t recognize where we were as the women began to be herded into a circle in the center of a clearing. I took my place beside the other women and Rhyder went with the men beyond where I could see into the woods.

We huddled together.

“What do you think they mean to do to us?” Norah asked. She was trembling almost uncontrollably.

“I don’t know,” I said.

“I know I won’t survive,” she cried, her voice breaking. “I’m not strong. I feel like I’m on the edge of going completely mad with fear and doing something so stupid they’ll catch and kill me.”

“What’s the name of that man who came to show the drones?” I asked in a low voice. “It’s obvious you two have a history. Do you think he might ever take you away if you could escape?”

“Yes,” she said. “And his name is William. We had the same major in college. We were friends, and he was definitely interested, but I was too shy to respond or give him any encouragement. Stupid, isn’t it?” she asked. “Seems like such a stupid thing to be worried about when I’m literally here as a captured whore.”

“I don’t think it’s stupid,” I said.

“We could try to run,” one pretty woman with bright yellow braids who looked about 20 or 21 said.

“And get our throats slit?” Norah responded sourly.

“Maybe it’s better than what they’ll do to us.”

“Maybe it is.”

“Where would we run?” I asked. “We are a long way from the main road.”

And if we got scooped up by other Congregants they wouldn’t be kinder

“What are you complaining about?” the braided woman spat at me. “Youaren’t going to be fucked by a bunch of them at once. Everyone knows that big blonde one won’t let anyone else near you.”

I felt a curious twist in my gut, a mix of instinctive revulsion that it was mybrotherwho was so sexually obsessed with me, and a little flip of sinful low pride.

Yes, it was a sin.

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