Lamb

[warning: graphic imagery, animal cruelty]

The sound of grunts, muffled by a pearly white handkerchief, and hooves scraping against the altar echoed throughout the temple. It was a Sunday evening. And soft red-yellow light gleamed through the window.

Father Amos’ low voice, raised to drown out all sound, filled the space with prayer, the weight of it bowing all heads. His hand gave way briefly and the sacrifice let out a strained yelp. An obvious cry for its mother… or any type of relieve. But that was the last sound it made.

Without looking, anybody would have known the moment that the sacrificing knife was sent into it. The yelps stopped but the hooves twitched for a couple sentences after. Looking up now, blood had already began to pool on the floor. It was spilling from the altar and still gushing out of the rent in the sacrifice’s neck. The innocent lamb.

Another prayer from Father Amos bade another response from the congregation. They gave it as they always did. My tongue didn’t move. I could still hear the cries of the lamb ringing about in my ears. The sound of the hooves had not yet quietened in my memory.

Father Amos collected the blood spilling off the altar in a golden challis and held it up for everyone to witness. He’d collected it like water but presented it like a human newborn. “Drink…”