the ritual

-one-

I've always thought this town was kinda fucked up, bit I guess I'd never realized just how fucked up it was until The Day. See, I'm twenty-six years old. In the village, the Elders hold a ritual called the Crucifixion--but they only do it every twenty years. I was only six years old for the last Crucifixion, and I barely remember it at all.

Before I go any further, let me explain how the Crucifixion works. You've read the Bible, right? Yeah, it's kinda like that, but worse. The Council Of Seven, also known as the Elders, go down to the jail and choose a prisoner. Then, they bind said prisoner to the big wooden cross in the center of town where he/she (it's almost always a he) is left for seven days. On the seventh day, always a Sunday, he/she is sacrificed to the Lord to repent for the town's sins.

Fucked up, right?

Anyways, I'm twenty-six years old, and the time has come for me to witness my first Crucifixion as an adult. Like the rest of the village, I make my way to the town square to watch the prisoner be brought in. Soon, the Elders are sweeping across the hard-packed dirt, a shackled man in tow.

My jaw visibly drops. He looks...like me. Long hair, ratty cargo shorts, worn out black work boots. He doesn't look like a hardened criminal at all.

The Elders drag him to the cross and tie him up with heavy ropes. He doesn't fight, but he holds his head high in defiance. I wonder what he's thinking. Does he know what's going to happen to him? Is he afraid?

And then he speaks:

"Don't believe them. Whatever they tell you, it's all a lie. Your life here is a lie."

I believe it, too. This town is next level fucked up, and I'm...pissed off. I'm gonna set their Jesus free.

All in good time, though. I don't know what they'll do if they catch me, but I know it won't be pretty. I already have offenses, anyways. My hair is a big no-no, but I refuse to cut it short. It's a part of me, a part of who I am.

I am my own man, and my hair is gonna be long and wild. End of story.

Anyways, I go home to plot the escape of the prisoner and myself. I can't stay in town, not after I free their human sacrifice. No, we'll have to run. I've never been beyond the woods, but I guess there's a first time for everything.

Hours have passed, I'm on my third glass of wine, and I still haven't come up with a plan. I've never been good at planning, anyways. And now, due to poor time management skills, it's getting dark and I'm planless. Damnit.

"Fuck it." I mumble. "I'll ad-lib."

I pull on my boots and carefully head to the town square. Interesting. They've left him unguarded. All the better for this horrible decision I've made. I slip through the night and creep up behind the cross.

"Keep quiet." I hiss, getting to work at the knots binding his ankles. Maybe I should've brought a knife. Yeah, poor planning. Shocker.

"Who are you?" He whispers hoarsely.

"Doesn't matter." I say as the ropes come loose. I move on to his left arm and finally see his face up close.

Fuck, he's gorgeous. Beautiful. Angelic. Godlike. A fucking wet dream. Jesus Christ Lord almighty.

Anyways. Back to the subject at hand.

"What are you doing?" He asks, sounding genuinely curious. Wow. Is he dense? How stupid do you have to be to not notice that someone's saving you?

"Setting...you...free." I grunt as I struggle with the knots at his wrist.

"Why?" He tilts his head.

Oh, yeah, I forgot to mention another part of the Crucifixion. The Crown Of Thorns, which is currently perched on his brown curls. Fuck, his hair. I...

Jesus. Get a hold of yourself, man.

"Because this is fucked up." I reply.

He laughs drily, his words dripping with dark sarcasm.

"I hadn't noticed." His tongue darts out, wetting his chapped lips. "What's in it for you?"

"What do you mean?"

"What are you getting out of this?"

"Uh...I dunno. Justice?" I shrug. I've always been a hotheaded freak with a love for doing the right thing, no matter the cost.

"I don't trust you. Are you gonna kill me?"

"If I wanted you dead, I would've left you here to suffer until next Sunday. And then I could've watched them cut out your still-beating heart."

"Oh." He says quietly, shoving his now-free hands in his pockets. "Well, thanks for saving me. I'll be going." He turns to walk away.

"Wait, I'm coming too!"

He looks at me like I'm crazy, which would be an accurate assessment.

"No, you're not."

"Yeah, I am. They'll know I was the one who cut you loose. I'm already on thin fucking ice, and another offense--especially one as serious as this--might land me a spot on the cross. See, now that you're gone, I'm the next best thing."

"Well..." He says, a smirk alighting on his face, "Okay. Let's start over. I'm Chris." He holds out his hand.

"I'm Eddie." I reply, feeling his calloused fingers against my wrist. "Nice to meet you."

A/N: thanks to Eddie-In-Chains for inspiring me to post this!

what do you guys think? too freaky? too strange?

just right?