From the Author:
I am declaring August 3 to August 10 to be a week-long “Horrific Break From Reality”.
From August 3 to August 7, two of my books will be available for free download from Amazon.com.
“Wages of Sin” – The story of two women punished for the crime of loving each other. One is forced to grow extra limbs she can’t control. She was the lucky one.
Also available on Amazon.com, “Modern Myths and Fairy Tales” will be on sale for $0.99 from August 3 until August 10, before returning to its normal price of $2.99.
On August 8 at 7 PM, I will be hosting Serial Killer Trivia: Fact and Fiction. There will be 3 fun yet creepy rounds of questions and answers with the highest scoring player of the night winning a $25 Amazon Gift Card. Have a drink, enjoy a little dark humor, investigate some of the lurking monsters who look like your next-door neighbor. Visit Yaymaker.com to purchase tickets for $10
The following excerpt is from my story “Communion Day”. I hope you enjoy my story.
The doors at the rear of the sanctuary opened. Two large men entered with Monty between them, ankles shackled together, and wrists bound to his waist. The larger men walked with a slow but steady gait, dragging him between them.
“What’s going on?” he screamed. “What the hell is wrong with you people?”
“There is no hope for us without sacrifice,” the pastor said and closed his book.
“A sacrifice of blood. A sacrifice of flesh,” the congregation responded, finishing the Recounting.
“What?” Monty screamed. “Let me go! Let me go!” He saw Celeste seated in her pew as he passed by. “Celeste? Celeste! Help me!” The trio stopped at the front of the sanctuary before the pulpit and the great statue. “Celeste!” Monty called over his shoulder. “Celeste!”
“Celeste,” the pastor said, “your husband calls to you.”
“Yes, pastor,” Celeste said before struggling to her feet. She waddled over to Monty and his guards. “Yes, honey?” she asked when she stood before him, her back to the statue.
“What-what-what the hell is going on? What is this place? Who are these people?”
“It’s Communion Day,” she said in the calm, even tone of a teacher. “This is my church and this is my family.”
“Church?” he repeated. “Like God and stuff, right?”
“No,” Celeste said. “The Father and The Son,” she said, gesturing to the icons behind her.
Monty’s face clouded with confusion. “What are you talking about? That’s not God! And that’s not Jesus! Why is he upside down?”
“That’s The Son. And that was how he was sacrificed.”
Monty shivered as if he were cold. He looked about quickly. “Honey-honey, what’s going on? Get me out of here. We’ve got to get out of here.”
“It’s Communion Day,” she said, placing a hand on his cheek. She kissed him. “We must all make sacrifices,” she said after their lips parted. “You are mine.”
Ushers came to the front and moved the pulpit out of the way. A pneumatic lift whirled to life and the great statue of Father started to rise. Beneath it was a grate and a basin. The grate slid out towards Monty. His guards carefully lifted his struggling figure and laid him on the grate, attaching his binds to it. The grate slid back under the statue. While the bulk of his body was under the statue, his head stuck out to one side.
“Celeste! Celeste!” he screamed repeatedly.
She moved to be closer to him, placing a hand on his cheek and kissing him again. The pneumatic lift whirled to life again and the statue lowered. Celeste kept her lips to his as the statue made contact and began to press on his body. His screams into her mouth could be heard in the first rows as the statue continued its slow descent. His screams turned to choking noises. When she broke her kiss with Monty, he atomized blood, spraying it over his face and hers. Monty watched Celeste wipe some of his blood from her face and lick her fingers clean before his pupils dilated and he stopped moving.
The ushers unlocked and removed a panel at the front of the statue. The congregation could see the filling basin. An usher opened a spout and let the blood flow into a goblet. Pastor Johnson held the cup and ushers stood on either side of him holding loaves of bread. Approaching in lines, each member of the congregation tore a piece of bread from a loaf and dipped in the goblet of blood held by the pastor.
“There is no hope without sacrifice,” the minister said to each member. “May your harvest be plentiful.” They then ate the bread, crossed themselves, and returned to their seats for quiet meditation.
The complete text for “Communion Day” and a selection of my work can be found at www.acraignewman.com.