I've lived quite a long time. You learn a lot over the years; meet a lot of people; lose a lot of people. Some good, some bad and everywhere in between. A lot of people in between actually; there are no saints or devils.
When I was twenty-five I visited the Chichen Itza on the Yucatán Peninsula of Mexico. A grouping of Mayan ruins. I've always loved ancient culture and had already traveled across the world seeing such sights as Stonehenge and the Great Pyramid of Giza.
This time I wanted to go further. I had gotten tired of the guided tours and playing it safe. I needed more.
Sneaking into the ruins wasn't difficult. At the time there wasn't much in the way of lighting at night and I kept my torch unlit until I was inside. I still remember the feeling of my beating heart as I first stepped into the ruins.
It's hard to describe just how silent it was there. No birds, insects or people to disturb the still air. Even my footsteps seemed strangely muted as I made my way through the passages.
I'm not certain how long it took before I found the alter. Looking back I was probably long lost by that point, but the way back was the furthest thing from my mind. The alter sat within a large room, maybe three stories high, with a staircase leading to its raised platform. The first step filled me both with dread and exhilaration.
There were no voices. No spirits whispering into my ear, but by the time I reached the top of the stairs I fully understood what the temple would ask of me. I placed my hand on the alter and took in a sharp breath to acknowledge and accept the pact.
I've always been a hearty individual, so capturing and carrying off one of the locals was not a difficult task. He barely had time to protest by the time they realized they were being attacked. When I returned to the altar with him I found a crude hammer and four stone spikes waiting for me that fit perfectly into four indentations on the altar. The man came to, screaming, as I drove the first spike through his hand. Between screams he would matter some gibberish. I'm sure it was the local language, but I certainly couldn't understand him. It didn't really matter anyway.
Given his sobbing, I imagine he'd accepted his fate as I drove in the final spike. His body began convulsing from the pain, but he remained alive. My job was just about complete. I only had to wait and clean up the mess. A nearby hatch to a refuse below made the clean up go by quickly. My new mystical understanding of the temple was quite handy.
It didn't have to find a virgin sacrifice. There wasn't really any sort of qualification outside of being human. Whatever gods were working through me they weren't picky. I was grateful for that; at first I wasn't very comfortable killing women. Times change though, and one must not resist the march forward of progress be it scientific or social. I've grown to be an equal opportunity demi-god.
Such is what I've become. With each sacrifice I am strengthened with their life force. Ten years per person; for ten years I am immune to age. I am immune to disease. I am immune to death. However long their miserable lives would have been, ten years of my life is far more valuable. Unimpeded by the struggles of man I can do so much more. All at such little cost.
I've lived quite a long time.
Nice post
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