Miho Sakurai:

The pitter-patter of tiny feet slapping against the stone floor resounds in the temple. Miho glances up from where he’s lounging bonelessly over his throne. The ten-year-old winces to see it, though it doesn’t stop his skidding ascension up the steps. Holding up a hand, Miho gestures for Taro to be silent, his lips parted at the reverence in a prayer he’s listening to. It’s barely there at all, little more than a whisper, but as strong as a sacrifice. It’s not often Miho gets one of them and he relishes in the pleasure of it, in the strength it gives him.

“Geezer Miho,” Taro blurts out, his hands frantically shaking and spinning in front of him. “I — ”

“Don’t ruin this for me,” Miho says sternly, giving the boy a put-upon glare. Taro’s mouth snaps shut in a clatter of teeth, but he rolls on the bottom of his feet impatiently and looks like he’s swallowing something he deems to be important. It’s the first time he’s been so impatient without snarky commentary and that’s enough to have Miho sighing loudly, rolling his wrist for the kid to say whatever it is he’s there for.

“Some lady sacrificed herself on the alter out front. She’s dying.” Taro spits out, tripping over his words in his rush.

Miho’s mouth falls open. He stares at Taro uncomprehendingly for a second before snapping his fingers. He appears in front of the alter between one blink and the next and, sure enough, there’s a teenage girl laying there. Dying, really. She’s holding her guts in, though not before slapping her uterus onto the alter as a sacrifice. In all of Miho’s existence, no one has ever done this. Sure, he’s gotten a couple of suicides, but they’re worthless. They aren’t sacrificing anything — they simply want to die and have chosen his alter to do it.

There’s something visceral and delicious about someone being willing to sacrifice not only what they’re worth, but their life as well. It’s the biggest sacrifice Miho’s had in eons and the only one of its kind. Generally, if he gets a sacrifice, it’s a parent sacrificing a family member and they usually end up regretting it — it wouldn’t be a sacrifice otherwise. This is unique, special, and Miho cannot afford to let this teenage girl die, not before he at least gets a chance to talk to her. He wants to know her mind and how it works. He needs to know why.

Healing her is a simple matter. All he has to do is put his hands on her, imagine himself weaving her flesh back together, and watch the way her skin knots and scars beneath his ministrations. It’s an ugly mark, one that he could have removed entirely, but he wants that. He wants her to look at the mark every day and remember what she did for him. He wants her to remember him as well as her depravity; so saying, Miho puts his mark on her. He grabs her lax body around the neck and threads together a brand like a necklace. It’s just as ugly as her scar, making it look like someone had nearly decapitated her.

Her uterus is waiting for him. Miho grabs it without fanfare and, looking the girl (assuming she’s still conscious) dead in the eye, he takes a bite of it. Blood squirts out of the organ and coats his chin. Miho shoves a second bite into his mouth and chews, his teeth sharper than a human’s as he relishes the gush of blood and chewy tackiness of the organ. Stuffing the rest of the uterus into his mouth, Miho smiles at the girl, his teeth tinged in scarlet and viscera.

Taro bursts outside of the temple just as Miho is dipping low over her. He scoops her up into his arms as the kid drifts to a stop. “Are you going to eat her?” he asks, demands more like, noting the blood on Miho’s chin.

Miho laughs at the ridiculousness of the question, says, “Of course, I’m going to eat her.” A pause as he shifts to hold her bridal style in his arms. “But not today.” Miho steps past Taro and glitches through the wall, taking her with him as he walks towards one of the many empty bedrooms designated for priests and priestesses. He has none, just the little boy who’d been given up as a sacrifice as a child.

Header Art by VerinsDemise. | Background Art by Tenshiikisu.

© 2022-2024 Cinderlite. All rights reserved.