Virgin Sacrifice

"Gather ye rosebuds while ye may, old time is still a-flying;

And this same flower that smiles today tomorrow will be dying."

-Robert Herrick, "To the Virgins, To Make Much of Time."

***

With his hands bound behind his back, Isaac marched through the woods. Seila walked behind him, prodding him the tip of a knife whenever he slowed down. This was their first date. It wasn't going like he'd planned.

On one hand, an evening stroll in a secluded place was at least romantic. Isaac's new roommate (a local) told him lots of townie kids sneak out here to Murray's Woods for dates. It was a big place, almost 30,000 acres, so it's easy to find secluded spots where nobody will hear you.

But the look on Seila's face didn't make him think she was in the mood for love. Neither did the knife. This, he assumed, is probably not how townie kids usually do it.

It was a dark night, with only a slender moon. But although she didn't carry any light of her own Seila always seemed to know exactly where to step. Isaac wasn't so lucky and he stumbled frequently, and he still wasn't sure where they were even going. Anxious, he fidgeted again, trying to test the ropes for give.

"You know, people are going to be looking for me if I disappear," he said.

"I'm sure they will," said Seila, in tones usually reserved for when someone says that aliens were going to swoop down and kidnap him in a UFO soon. They both stepped over a hedge.

"Doesn't that worry you?" Isaac said, pressing on.

"Not really. No need to worry about something until it happens. Watch out for those roots."

Isaac tripped anyway. She helped him up. He said "Thanks," and then felt immediately stupid.

He decided to try a different tactic: "My mom will be really upset if something happens to me."

"A mother's love is a beautiful thing. Keep walking."

"How would you mother feel if I tied you up and held a knife to you like this?"

"Very surprised. You're not the type."

Isaac sighed and dragged his feet. Who would have thought a girl like this was so good with knots?

They'd met in Sociology 100, the Tuesdays and Thursdays class they shared. Although "met" maybe wasn't quite the right word; she just sat in front of him the first day wearing a top that showed off her entire bare back, and he'd found himself staring.

He'd wanted to work up the nerve to talk to her then and there but found an excuse to put it off. Isaac had never been good with girls; or rather, he'd always told himself that he wasn't good with girls so that he would feel better about the fact that he rarely approached them at all.

College was supposed to be different for him. Now that he was 18 and living in a new town he was free from everything he'd done before; free to be a completely different person that the people in his high school days wouldn't have recognized. A new Isaac, he'd told himself.

But then he wimped out on talking to Seila, and the New Isaac started to seem a lot like the old one.

To his amazement, she was the one who finally made the first move. Out of the blue, as he was stuffing his notes in his bag after class one day, she turned around in her seat and said, "I need a date for tomorrow night. Why don't you come?"

If anyone had asked, Isaac would probably have guessed that he'd say something dumb at a moment like this, or embarrass himself, or maybe just die on the spot. Instead he replied, smooth and easy, "Yeah, sure, that sounds like fun."

And then, just as confidently, "You're Seila, right?" As if he hadn't been thinking about her non-stop for weeks.

It was a pretty good facsimile of the way a normal person would act, he was sure. It wasn't until he got back to his dorm that his knees turned to rubber. When his roommate asked what's up he couldn't answer. He was in shock.

How he'd ever repeat the performance come Friday night Isaac couldn't imagine. But as soon Seila hopped into his car, smiled, put a hand on his knee, and asked if he could take the top down, it looked like everything was on easy street. She suggested they take a drive out to the edge of Murray's Woods. His heart rate picked up a little bit.

They found a quiet place to park. Things started to get steamy. Isaac couldn't believe this was really happening.

Right in the middle of it (just as he was starting to feel brave) Seila stopped and said, "Hey. This is your first time, isn't it?"

Freezing in place, shame made Isaac's entire body flush. The moon and the stars and the branches overhead peered in through the fogged-up windows. For a second he considered opening the door, falling out, and running away.

It was true, of course, that Isaac had never made it this far with a girl all through high school. Had barely managed so much as a kiss, in fact, to the point that he spent almost half the day sometimes thinking about it.

His virginity seemed like a time bomb, set to blow up and humiliate him any minute. Or maybe like an anchor, a weight that he'd never free himself from until finally it sank him...

But when Isaac looked away now and mumbled a reply Seila just she touched him on the cheek and said, "It's okay. I figured."

"You don't mind?"

"It's why I was interested in you. First timers are a specialty for me."

"I...that's..."

Putting a finger to his lips Seila said, "Don't talk. Just do what I tell you and I promise this will be the most amazing night of your life. Okay?"

"Um. Okay. Yes."

"Good boy."

And then she'd suggested tying him up. That seemed a little bit...advanced...for Isaac. But he HAD just agreed to do what she said.

So he got out of the car and put his hands behind his back when she told him to. The only thing he thought to ask was, "Why do you carry rope in your purse?"

"For moments just like this," she'd said, giving the knots a tug. "Is that good? Does it hurt?"

"It's tight, but it doesn't hurt."

"All right. Now, start walking."

Isaac paused. Seila had stepped back a bit so that the shadows of the trees covered her face and he couldn't read her expression. "What do you mean?" he said.

"I mean put one foot in front of the other and go where I tell you."

"Why can't we just stay here?" Isaac leaned against the car for support. And then Seila took the took the knife out of her purse.

The tip of that blade prodded Isaac again now. It was a wicked piece of work, twice as long as her hand and made from two separate pieces of bone, one for the blade and one for the handle. She looked very comfortable using it.

The chatter of crickets filled the woods, reminding him how alone they were out here. Isaac had never heard that noise back home in the city. He thought it was something they only put in movies and TV. It was a cool night with the smell of autumn in the air, and here, far away from the town, you could see every star in the sky.

As if reading his thoughts, Seila sighed in his ear and said, "Yes, I love it out here too. It's so romantic."

"Are you a witch?" Isaac said. He blurted the question out without thinking about it first. Seila frowned.

"That's such an ugly word," she said.

"You, uh, didn't answer my question."

"You're a smart kid, Isaac. Figure it out."

"I did. You're a witch and you want me for a sacrifice. That's why you asked if I was a—if this was my first time."

"I don't like that word either, 'sacrifice.' It sounds silly." Seila kicked a pinecone. "That's the kind of thing people say when they don't understand anything. They go talking about 'human sacrifice,' like in a movie or something."

"You're still not answering me."

"Well you're right about one thing: We DO need to make an offering on a night like this," she said. "And I already told you that virgins are a specialty of mine..." She shrugged. "You're a little harder to find, but worth the trouble."

Isaac ran. It wasn't something he planned; the urge hit him and he did it. But, still unable to see in the dark he fell almost immediately, then spent a few seconds lolling on the ground with the wind knocked right out of him. The sharp brush cut his face.

Shaking her head, Seila tried to help him up. He thrashed "Don't be like that," she said, hauling him up in spite of himself. "I'm really having a good time and I don't want you spoiling it."

"This is just my luck," Isaac said, hanging his head. "I finally meet a girl and look what happens."

"There's no luck about it, I picked you out on purpose. Don't trip again." She put a hand on his arm. "You were exactly what I was looking for. If other women haven't gone for you it's because you're not bothering to be what they're looking for."

Smarting, Isaac said, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Most of us spend a lot of effort trying to start relationships. But the only reason you and me went out tonight is because I did all the work. What other woman is going to want to do that?"

"I just have a hard time talking to people..." Isaac was having more trouble walking now, as they were going uphill.

"I know it's not your fault that you're shy. But you can't expect to meet anyone when you almost never leave your room except to go to class."

"How do you know that?"

"I've been stalking you."

"You have?!"

"Duh. Watch out for those branches. Anyway, I admit it's hard having relationships with people, but most of us at least try. You've got to be willing to carry some of the burden."

"That's easy for you to say, you're a girl—a woman. It's different for guys."

"This part isn't."

"How would you know?"

"I'm older than you, I know a lot about people."

"How old ARE you anyway?"

"Let's just say I've been doing this for a long time. By the way, we're here."

At that moment they finally came to a clearing in the trees at the top of the hill, a wide open space with an incredible view of the valley and the town below them and, right in the middle of a circle of trees, a huge flat stone that all but glistened even in the dark. Isaac stopped in his tracks.

"Go on," Seila said, giving him a push.

"I need to catch my breath."

"Go on," she repeated. "We don't have very much more time."

Rather than explain what that meant, Seila pushed him until they came to the big rock. It was a huge, flat chunk of bluestone about three feet high and as wide as double bed, unworked but worn smooth by the touch of many, many hands over the course of—decades? Centuries? It was impossible to guess.

It wasn't until he was right next to it that Isaac saw the painting on the surface of the stone slab, old and chipped, but still vivid: A dark, hunched figure with wings. Something metallic was mixed into the black paint so that when the moonlight hit it the figure shimmered. It's beautiful, he thought, without wanting to.

"It's very old," Seila said. "Nobody even knows who painted it or when. Do you know who that is?" She gestured at the winged finger. "He has lots of names, but we call him Urian."

"Is it...a god?"

"Don't be silly, there are no gods" said Seila, testing the edge of her knife.

"Then why are you doing this?"

She took his bound hands and pressed two of his fingers against the soft skin of her wrist. Her pulse throbbed.

"Feel that?" she said. "That's what makes you alive, but it doesn't make you human. Doing, thinking, feeling, those are the things that make us people. And it's the same with this."

"That doesn't even make sense."

"This is something people have always done, for tens of thousands of years. It's human nature. There's no point trying to stop it now."

"You really are nuts," Isaac said. "You can't do this to me just because it's...tradition!"

"Of course I can. Where would we be without tradition?"

Before he could say more she pushed him to his knees and bent him over the stone. His cheeks pressed against the cold surface and his chattered. He tried to object again but it was hard to talk with his face smushed against the rock.

"I guess you're not going to understand," Seila said. "Oh well..." She scraped the knife's bone blade against the side of the stone. "It'll be over quick, I promise."

I can't believe this is happening, Isaac thought. She pressed down his head again, and then he couldn't even scream. His clothes came off first, Seila cutting them away at the seams and stripping him, the way a hunter skins an animal. He was aware, dimly, that she shed her own clothes as well, straddling him from behind, her bare flesh pressed against his. Even in his current predicament his body responded to the stimulus right away, resulting in an awkward boner squeezed uncomfortably between his lap and the sacrificial slab.

Drops of icy sweat traced a path down Isaac's face, leaving dark marks on the stone. Please let it really be quick, he thought. Please, please, please.

There was a distinct noise behind his ear as Seila kissed the knife, and then she whispered: "

Torzu! Zacare! Ca c noqod; Zamran micalzo od ozazm vrelp lap Zir de Satan apila gohed!"

And with that she brought the blade down.

Isaac screamed. Then he froze, waiting for the pain and the sick, numb feeling of his own blood spilling all over him...

But nothing happened. Maybe I've gone into shock, he thought. Or am I dead already? If so, it didn't seem that bad. Not good enough that he still wouldn't rather be alive, but not much to really get worked about so far.

Eventually he dared to open his eyes. Seila had let him go, so he sat up. The ropes slid off of his wrists. She'd cut them instead of him, he realized.

Whirling around to face her, Isaac stammered. "I'm. I. I—"

"Yes, you're all right."

Looking at the rope marks on his wrist, Isaac felt faint. "Why?" he said. It was all could think to say. Reaching out, Seila helped rub some feeling back into his hands.

"I told you I needed virgin blood," she said. "I didn't say how much. You didn't realize you're already bleeding? Here, from when you fell."

Wiping away a little blood from the cut above his eye, she showed it to him. Then she pointed to the slab. His face had left a red smear behind.

"That's it?" he said.

"That's it.".

Isaac stared for a few seconds more. Then he exploded.

"What the fuck? If that was all you wanted why not just tell me?"

Shrugging, Seila coiled the bits of rope up again and put them back in her bag, "Because that's the way it's always been: the unwilling sacrifice. It's a story as old as time. Of course, in the old days they usually wanted a lot more blood than that. But I'm a bleeding heart myself."

Isaac sagged. "I almost pissed my fucking self," he said.

"Well that's part of life too. But see? You're not hurt very much."

She stroked his cheek. He flinched. "I wouldn't exactly say that."

"Poor thing. The offering has to happen on nights like this and I've got to get it exactly right, so I've been a little stressed out. Forgive me?"

Seila took a couple more steps toward him. Despite the crisp night, his hard-on was still between them. It brushed against her thigh as she got closer, but she didn't seem to notice. Isaac could still hear the sound of the crickets. He tried to pull back but she wouldn't let him. He suddenly found it very hard to look away from her.

"I...should leave," he said.

"You certainly should," said Seila. "After everything I've done you don't want to spend a second longer with me. In fact I wouldn't be surprised if you never want to see me again."

Her fingers traced the lines of his back. He realized that his own hands had come to rest on her hips.

"I'm going to the police," he said.

"Of course you are," said Seila. She brushed his hair out of his face and pushed him back against the flat stone again. "Anybody would do the same."

"It's just...I don't have any clothes."

"Oh, is that the only reason you're still here?"

Turning, Seila climbed up onto the rock and reclined, her naked body spread out in front of him.

"I guess we can't leave until we find you some. Let me keep you warm while we wait?"

She beckoned with one finger. Shaking again, Isaac climbed onto the stone and on top of her without quite realizing what he was doing. Their bodies fit together easily. She pressed her lips to his and he tasted her again, warm and trembling. It made his head spin. He tried to shake himself free of the feeling.

"Are you making me do this?" he said. "Is this...magic?"

"No. Do you want me to show you some magic? Come here."

She wrapped her legs around him, combing her fingers through his hair and pulling him down for a long kiss.

"This is part of the sacrifice too," she said. "It's not just your blood I want. The virgin offering is you, the living you."

Cupping his hand to her naked breast she made him knead it. He gaped at the feeling of the hot and soft flesh.

"You asked about gods?" she whispered. "There's no god except my body and yours. That's Urian. Nothing exists except us and the universe. We are god, god is us, and the world is our kingdom. Do you understand?"

"No..." said Isaac.

She pulled him down to kiss the sloping curve of her neck and shoulders, and giggled at the touch of his lips. "Then let me show you."

Isaac lay with his cock squeezed between his body and hers, pressed uncomfortably on both sides while Seila ran her fingers through his hair and gave him long, open mouthed misses. Her naked body writhed underneath him, all soft skin and curves and the dizzying smell of perfume mixed with sweat.

Her nails ran up and down his bare back, clawing so hard that he groaned and his head lolled. When she did it again she drew blood, but Isaac didn't mind the sight of it now. It seemed a natural thing, just like the pain. He kissed her harder, driving her down into the rock underneath him.

He thought it would be cold and uncomfortable for her lying there, but she didn't seem to mind. Whenever he moved she raised herself up so that they remained pressed together, without so much as a whisper between them. He realized she was saying something between kisses. At first he thought it was his name, but then he recognized the hard, guttural words from before:

"

Torzu. Zacare. Ca c noqod."

"What does that mean?" he said.

Seila clung to him and pulled his head back to kiss the side of his neck, her hot mouth and quick pink tongue lapping at his naked flesh. "Say it with me and you'll understand," she whispered. He tried his best:

"Zamran micalzo od ozazm vrelp lap. Zir de Satan apila gohed."

It was all gibberish to him, but for some reason it made him feel good, like the first time he'd ever had a drink, or his first kiss, or even earlier tonight when Seila had hopped in his car and the full summit of possibilities for the night dawned on him.

He repeated it when she said it, cupping her soft, supple breasts with eager hands while he did. Seila shuddered and writhed harder, the wriggling sensation of her hot body coaxing his still-throbbing hard on into even more rapt and painful attention.

She reached between them and circled her fingers around his scrotum. Isaac braced himself but found that instead of squeezing she simply fondled them before letting her fingertips slide up to trace a circle on the soft, sensitive skin at the base of his cock. He gaped again, momentarily unable to say anything.

"Remember when I promised you'd have the most amazing night of your life?" she said.

"Yes," said Isaac, panting. Seila's hands moved everywhere on him, his body becoming helpless underneath the spidery grace of her fingers.

"And haven't you?" she said, nibbling his lip.

"Yes," Isaac said again. She put a finger in his mouth and he sucked it. Sweat glistened in his damp hair.

"You're mine now," Seila continued, wrapping her legs around him so tightly that it became difficult to move. "My offering. My sacrifice."