Sacrifice?

Everything I write is about the characters, not the content creators. If you ship any characters together in this fic, dni. I have the time and will find you
Tell me if I've overstepped any boundaries.

Tommy just wanted to have a peaceful week. A peaceful week full of him borrowing and stockpiling food and cloth for the incoming winter.

Winter wasn't for another few months, but he already knew it'd be brutal. He also knew that food would be a lot scarcer than it ever had been before.

And that was saying a lot.

The crops had been failing this year. No matter what the villagers planted, it would wilt. No matter how much water and nutrients the villagers gave the plants, they'd die.

It left no crops to feed the people or their animals.

Tommy heard murmurs throughout the village. They were all getting antsy, and he didn't like it one bit.

"Do you think the Gods are mad at us?" One unusually paranoid Villager asked another.

"They probably are. We've been taking from them for far too long. They want retribution." Paranoid Villager 2 answered in a hushed tone.

Personally, Tommy believed the weather was just too unnaturally cold this year. It felt like a snowstorm was constantly brewing around the village, but none of the others seemed to acknowledge it.

Don't get him wrong; he believed in the gods just as much as everybody else. He just had a feeling that this wasn't their way of revenge.

The villagers all prayed nightly and held multiple annual festivals to worship the different gods. If that wasn't enough for the gods, then Tommy didn't know what was.

Somehow some way, the villagers decided they knew just what would appease them.

–

"Get your dirty fucking hands off of me!" Tommy all but shrieked at the people. Multiple of them were dragging him somewhere. That somewhere appeared to be deep in the woods.

"You must calm down. It's an honor to be offered up to the gods. You must act grateful." A burly villager who held his arm fast gritted at him.

"You ugly lug! Let me go!" He didn't let go.

Well, he did, but not where Tommy was hoping he would.

Everybody, in sync, dropped Tommy into a clearing. Before he could bolt, a heavy boot landed on his back. It knocked the air out of his lungs.

"People of Ballburg, we are here tonight to honor and offer a sacrifice to the Gods. Please lower your heads." A strange British accented voice said. A different shoe slammed onto Tommy's head when he tried to lift it.

"Let the live sacrifice commence." There was something sinister and dark in the tone. Tommy couldn't pinpoint it. He couldn't dwell on it long anyways.

Tommy suddenly felt himself being ripped off of the ground. There was a flurry of movement and when it ceased, he found himself tied tightly to a large oak tree.

His wrists were bound together behind the tree. His ankles were also tethered to the tree. He couldn't move to save himself. It also didn't help that every little movement chafed his skin raw.

Other than that, there wasn't too much wrong. Besides the fact that the villagers unanimously decided to kill him and the silence. The silence might just be worse.

He knew no one from Ballburg liked him, but the hush that has fallen over the forest was unnatural. Too unnatural.

There's usually a cricket chorus with the occasional bat click. If you're lucky, you might get to hear an owl's haunting hoot or a wolf's somber howl, but none of that could be heard.