In the olden times, the sacrifice of a virgin for religious and cultural purposes is often mentioned. The process of offering up an untouched and pure young woman in total devotion to the gods became a staple of dedication and goodwill to the gods. But as history often ends with the young ripe fruit of a woman standing alone and abandoned at total mercy for the gods it often neglects to tell us what happens next. Where does the journey take her from here? Where does she end up? And most importantly what's the ultimate meaning of her sacrifice?
Othellie was one of these young women. Picked out at a young age for her beautiful features and mild manners she had been prepped for this her whole life. The virginal sacrifice only happened every ten years so it was important that everything went perfectly and without any problems. Therefore she had been sent away at a very young age to live in a convent with only women to ensure that she stayed pure until she could fulfill her purpose as she came of age. She could vaguely remember the day she had been taken away. She remembered that her parents had cried and begged the warden not to take her, but to no avail. Her parents had been given a suitable compensation for the girl and a promise that this was an honor and not a sentence and that they should be proud that they had carried forth the child that would secure the village for the next ten years.
She had been only eight years of age when her fate had been sealed and she had been taken away, and ever since that day her life had been dedicated to making her the perfect offering. Her days were filled with religious studies and prayers to the old gods, the gods that would claim her. She was forbidden from seeing anyone other than the handful of nuns that worked at the convent, as to be sure that there would not be any temptations that could compromise her purity. At night her hands would be locked to the side of the bed and she was only allowed to bathe in cold water with her private nun washing her as to ensure that not even her own hands could taint her.
She lived like this for ten years until the faithful day arrived that she would finally meet her destiny. The preparations for the night had been rather enjoyable. She had been bathed in warm milk with honey and oils to ensure her skin was soft and glowing before she was dressed in a billowing white silk dress that hugged her luscious body but at the same time keep her modest. Her soft silky hair had been braided with ribbons and flowers, and the nuns had even applied some powders to her delicate face to pinken her cheeks and lips and frame her big enchanting eyes. As she looked at herself in the mirror the nuns had put in front of her she could hardly recognize herself. She looked strong and healthy, yet soft and delicate, like a flower. The dress showed off her perfect figure and luscious curves and she could finally understand the decision that had been made so many years ago. She looked perfect.
The ceremony had been long and eventful, but Othellie had hardly been able to pay any attention to any of it. She had been placed on a marble throne at the head of the church and for the first time in ten years, she was able to see the people of the village that she had been chosen to protect. She wondered if her parents were there, if they were then she could not recognize them in the crowd. She was feed strawberries and other aphrodisiacs during the ceremony, and multiple times the priest had forced her to stand and present her body to the crowd. They had looked at her in awe, she truly was the chosen one.
She was also given wine that tasted sweet and filled her head with a foggy feeling. She felt like she was floating and it slowly got harder and harder for her to pay attention. The cold stone against her skin made her nipples protrude in the dress and she felt slightly embarrassed. Especially when the priest pointed it out as a sign from the gods that they were content with the young woman that was presented in front of them.
As the ceremony was coming to an end she was led out of the church and the walk up the mountain started. She went first, her nuns guiding her while the rest of the village followed. The sun was starting to set and the air was getting colder and crisper around her, clearing her head of the fog that had followed the wine earlier. As Othellie walked on she was filled with unease. So far she had accepted everything that has happened to her as a part of her destiny but now, as the time was finally her she started having doubts. She truly knew nothing about what would happen to her in the following hours. Her heart started racing and she could feel her mouth going dry. She tried slowing her pace but the nuns forced her forward. For the first time, she registered just how hard the nuns were holding her. They weren't just guiding her, they were making sure she could not escape.
"Please... don't" She muttered but everyone who could hear her didn't seem to care. As they were nearing the top of the mountain she was growing more frantic. She tried to free herself from the grip of the nuns but it was as if they were made of steel.
As they made it to the top of the mountain the priest called them to a halt, and she was faced with the spot where her life was likely to end. On top of the mountain there was a small hill surrounded by torches and where the crowd of the village was gathering, and in the middle, on top of the hill was a large altar made of stone. The sun was almost completely set now, only a few rays of gold were casting a dim, warm light over the hill.
She felt a large lump in her throat and tears welling in her eyes as she was led to the altar and placed on top of it. A light breeze blew past her and sent her dress into action. The loose light fabrics billowed in the wind and made her look like she was floating. The priest had started chanting again and the crowd followed suit.
She was full-on panicking now, and her heart was beating like crazy. Someone grabbed her wrist and she screamed and hit them away. No one seemed to mind, they just kept chanting and looking at her from a distance. It didn't take long for the nuns to overpower her despite her scratching and screaming, and before she knew it both her wrists and her ankles were fastly secured to each end of the altar, leaving her spread eagle in the middle. Despite her cries for help, no one came to the rescue and soon, way too soon, the priest seemed to wrap things up. The crowd started migrating back down to the village, leaving her abandoned on the altar with only the torches for company.
The torches died down, one after one, leaving Othellie in complete darkness. Her pulse was still racing but she had stopped crying. For what seemed like hours she struggled with her restraints and called for help but to no help. She was all alone and abandoned. Othellie tried to think rationally, there had to be someone who could save her, someone who could free her so that she didn't have to die on this rock.
Suddenly she felt a shift in the air. The wind stopped and everything went quiet. She could no longer hear the bugs in the air or feel the wind in her hair. she couldn't see anything either. It was as if she had gone blind. She felt a hand on her thigh and she jumped. She could not see anyone, but still, she could feel a hand on her right thigh, softly rubbing her through the dress.
"Hello there, I see the sacrifice does not disappoint this year. what is your name little bird?" The voice was low and slightly raspy, male, she figured. Othellie could hear the voice but not its origin or where it came from, it was as if it was only manifesting in her head.
"Othellie" She whispered barely audible.
