One Day Of Sanity(Blood Legacy)

 

Sacrifice 

It was an ancient village, older than memory itself. The people cared for little else besides their fetish beliefs and ancient customs. Every dispute, no matter how small, was settled by the deity, and the deity’s solution always demanded blood. There was never a conflict in that village that did not end with blood on the ground.

Greg, grandson of the oracle, had seen too much. He had stood beside his grandfather at nearly every sacrifice and watched rivers of red soak the earth. One day, after yet another ritual, he could no longer stay silent.

“Grandfather,” he said, voice trembling with anger.

“What is it, Greg?”

“Why must everything end in blood? Why is that always the answer?”

The old man sighed deeply and wiped his blood-stained hands on his robe. “Beat me if I know, child. I only do what was passed down to me, generation after generation. One day you will take my place. It is best you learn now.”

“I will be no such thing,” Greg spat. “I want to be my own man, not a servant to some bloodthirsty god.”

“This has been our family’s legacy since the dawn of time.”

“How can blood be our legacy?” Greg shouted. “Did you see what happened to that young woman today? They made her give her left eye—all because she farmed land her family had worked for generations! She didn’t even know it belonged to someone else!”

“That was not my doing,” the oracle said quietly. “It was the verdict of the gods.”

“Fuck the gods,” Greg snarled.

The old man’s eyes widened. “Mind your tongue, boy! The gods have ears and eyes everywhere.”

“And yet they let a screaming woman’s eye be burned out with a hot iron,” Greg hissed. “They have cruel ways.”

“The gods have their ways,” the oracle repeated, turning away.

“Yeah,” Greg whispered, “and I will have mine.”

“That is enough,” his grandfather said sharply, ending the conversation.

Days later, Greg was summoned to witness another sacrifice. He stood at the edge of the crowd, stomach churning, wondering if he could simply run—disappear into the forest and never return. But he knew what happened to those who refused the gods’ call.

His elder brother had tried.

He had rejected the shrine, turned his back on the deity, and fled.

The gods cursed him for it.

Now he wandered the village mad, eyes wild, speaking in tongues—except for one day each month. On that single day, when the moon was right, his mind returned. For twenty-four hours he was himself again, lucid and heartbroken. Greg would sit with him in secret, holding his trembling brother while he wept.

Every month the gods offered the same bargain through the oracle:

“Return to the shrine and serve, and your mind will be restored forever.”

Every month his brother looked Greg in the eyes and whispered, “No. I won’t spill blood for them. I won’t.”

Then the day would end, the madness would swallow him again, and Greg would be left alone with the screams of the next sacrifice echoing in his ears.

He was trapped.

The bloodline demanded its next oracle.

And the gods, patient as stone, were waiting.

Greg stood motionless, gripping the Staff of the Oracle as the two disputants were summoned to state their claims.

The Oracle turned to the petitioner. “Melford, you say this young man slept with your wife and you demand he pay for it. Is that correct?”

“Yes,” Melford spat, glaring at the accused.

The Oracle faced the young man. “You are the defendant. State your name and your defence.”

“My name is Edward,” he answered, pointing at the young woman beside them. “I deny the accusation. She told me she was unmarried.”

The Oracle’s gaze shifted to the woman. “Susan, is that true?”

“Yes, Oracle,” she replied softly. “Melford and I are finished. We are no longer together.”

“That is a lie!” Melford shouted.

“SILENCE!” the Oracle roared. “You will speak only when spoken to.”

Greg watched the drama unfold, unmoved. He knew they were wasting time; in the end, only blood ever settled anything.

The Oracle urged Susan on. “Explain.”

“Melford has mistreated me for years,” she said, her voice trembling yet steady. “He has shown me neither love nor affection. For two whole years he has not touched me. Whenever I asked why, he said he was done with me—that he already had someone else.”

A low murmur of sympathy rippled through the onlookers. Some cursed Melford under their breath. Greg felt nothing. He only wanted the ritual over so he could slip away and think about his own plans.

The Oracle fixed his eyes on Melford. “Is this true? Remember: you called the gods to judge this matter, and the gods hate to be disturbed for nothing. If her words are true, let it rest. Walk away now, or blood will answer.”

The crowd nodded and muttered for Melford to drop it. But pride burned hotter than fear in him. “Let the gods judge!” he declared.

Poor fool, Greg thought, shaking his head. If only they knew the truth.

At a gesture from his grandfather, Greg stepped forward and handed over the staff.

The Oracle brought out the spirit drink, poured a libation onto the earth, and began the invocation:

“Gods of the land, take this.”

A few drops fell.

“Gods of our ancestors, take this.”

Another offering.

“Gods of the dead, this is yours.”

Then, raising his voice to the sky: “OLUGODI, the All-Seeing Eye, bear witness to this judgement!”

He cast the sacred cowries—carved from the bones of every Oracle who had come before—onto the wet ground. For a long moment he stared at them in silence. A sudden clap of thunder rolled across the clear sky. When the Oracle finally lifted his face, his eyes were wet with sorrow.

“The gods have spoken,” he said heavily. “Their will shall be done.”

He pointed at Melford. “You will lose your manhood. It shall be cut off and offered to the gods.”

“What?” Melford staggered back, but the crowd seized him before he could flee.

Greg sighed. What a fool.

The Oracle turned to Edward. “You will lose your eyes.”

“That is madness!” Edward raged. “I have done nothing wrong!”

At last the Oracle looked upon Susan. “You shall cleave to Edward until the end of his days. If ever you leave him or betray him, your body will rot away—one piece at a time—until nothing remains.”

A stunned hush fell over the village. The gods had judged, and no one—not even Greg—dared question their verdict.

To be continued..