Sacrifices were never part of my village's rituals. In fact, I can't think of a single time in our history teachings that the word sacrifice was ever used beyond self-sacrifice of perhaps a martyr or something. In either case, I suppose I really couldn't consider myself a sacrifice either. Perhaps hostage or spoils of war would be a better term. In either case, the story I'm about to tell you is going to seem fanciful and unreal, but believe me, for as fictional as everything sounds, it's very real.
My name is Mary; I am the first daughter of the seventh leader in our clan. I have two younger sisters and a brother, a good five years spanning our ages apart. I was considered a blessing in many ways when at first my mother had miscarried three times. I was eagerly spoiled and the beauty I gained from both my parents added to my position within our town. I was home one afternoon, cleaning out what my family's home when the screaming started. The world we lived in had long ago been ravaged by war and what remains of that time and world are merely considered scenery. The great pyramids that had shadowed over the land my father had moved the clan to had merely been thought unimportant. And, perhaps, that was our mistake.
The screams escalated in sound as I watched shadows passed by the curtained window, running fast and away from west side of the village, where the pyramids were standing. I heard hungry growls and the scuffle of fighting but didn't understand any of it. Tribes around here were practically nonexistent. Many didn't want to live in such dry conditions. So, the thought that an enemy had come upon us seemed absurd. Setting down the broom I had been using, I marched to the door, hesitant in my reaching to open it but I had to know what was going on.
When the door opened, my shock was great. Creatures gray of flesh were racing back and forth through the streets. They had the head of a jackal and their legs were shaped in the form of the hind legs of a dog. Their torso was that of an overly muscled man, with wide shoulders and powerfully built arms. They carried swords and were adorned in gold plated collars and manacles, plus fine quality linen that covered the more private area of a person's body. I had little idea what to do, these creatures seeming to be something unnatural. Something that should be unreal but I watched as a young warrior of my clan was slain not ten feet from my home, I knew they were very real.
Slamming the door shut, I hurried to push the bar in place before pulling the shutters closed and locked over the windows. There were no weapons in the house and I could only think to take the broom before running upstairs. Since my family had been leaders of the clan for some time, our wealth showed. Mirrors lined the walls and mimicked my motions as I hurried to barricade myself in what seemed like the most appropriate spot, the master bedroom.
The bed was on a raised platform, thus easy to crawl beneath. I tried not to sneeze as the dust swirled around me, staining the white sarong I wore, which was common wear for any female of the village. I kept the broom before me to help hide my position beneath the bed, but as I peeked out through the rounded bristles I could see myself in a large mirror parallel to my position. I could see my luminous blue eyes, wide with fear, my nearly white blonde curls falling in front of my face and over my shoulders, disguising the delicate features of the heart shape face, and the slender form. I wasn't hidden well, that much I could see but just as I thought to move, the crash of the door downstairs stilled my movements.
It was the longest period of time in my life. My breath kept hitching and I waited as I listened to the pristine house become ransacked. I thought, perhaps, they might not check upstairs but just as it seemed my hopes would come true, the soft treed of footsteps could be heard entering the room. I tried to swallow down my whimper, tried to regulate my breathing so it would not be noticed, but my body didn't want to cooperate.
I watched with morbid fascination as a creature similar to the one I had seen outside my home searched around the room, nose pointed in the air as if taking in the scents. It blew out a breath of air and gave a shake of its head after a minute and moved further around the bed, searching. I tried to determine what it was looking for, thinking it was going my mother's jewelry box, which rested atop the bed's headboard, when the creature suddenly crouched down before me, filling my vision with the image of a snarling face of a dog.
A scream ripped through my throat and I tried to back up, even as a powerful hand thrust into the small space and grabbed my arm, pulling me out and up to my feet. The creature stood a towering seven foot over my five foot three inches and I could only sob as it looked me over. The hand held powerfully tight to my upper arm, bruising the soft golden skin. Its other hand reached out, absently touching at my curls then brushing over my face before yanking the knot of the sarong free.
