Ancient Rituals

It must have been the frantic beating of the tribal drums that awakened her. Getting up and stretching, she once more examined her cage. She was unaware as to how long she had actually been locked up, and she fully understood that any chance of escape would be futile, she was constantly being monitored.

A tall, tanned, muscular man appeared. He stood there and his eyes explored her well rounded completely exposed body, and by the twisted smile on his face he seemed very satisfied by what he saw. Noticing the menacing look in his eyes, and perhaps sensing what wicked thoughts now raced through her captor’s mind, she huddled in the corner.

The first man was soon followed by three others, and the first of them, his hands trembling with anticipation, opened the cage. At this point the drumming intensified, growing louder and faster. Whatever was going to happen, she understood that it would be soon... The other men also entered the cage and fairly soon she found herself completely unable to resist as she was hogtied. The four men began to pat each other on the back in a congratulatory fashion and they reached down and effortlessly picked her up. They carried her from her dingy cage out into the bright daylight. Fear emulated from every cell in her body, as she was understood she was completely helpless, and that whatever had been planned for her was now so very close.

Dozens, maybe hundreds, of people were gathered there and began hooting, applauding and hollering as they watched on. This obviously encouraged the captors further, as they began to dance to the rhythm of the drums, still carrying their prize.

Next, she was placed onto a large flat rock. She desperately tried to move, yet the bindings had been tied with expert hands. She watched on helplessly as the first man reached down to a leather sheaf that was attached to his left hip and pulled out a narrow bladed knife. He held the knife up to the applauding, ever growing, frenzied crowd. They cheered even louder and some began to chant. As the crowd reached a state of near frenzy he took the knife and skillfully, and with evident enjoyment, placed the tip of the blade on her exposed skin directly above her heart. In one exaggerated gesture he plunged the knife deep into her young flesh. Pain overwhelmed her, and she felt life slowing draining away. But before she lost consciousness for the final time, her other captors took a long wooden pole, with one end fashioned into a sharp point, and gradually they impaled her.

Moments later her young body was lifted and ceremoniously paraded in front of the crowd. It was finally placed above a fire pit, which had been dug from the sand for this very occasion and was already glowing hot from burning charcoal. They placed her onto a spit, and the men, delighting in the ritual, took jubilant turns in rotating the handle.

—§—

Five hours later, as the sun began to set, the hoards of flabby American tourists uniformly dressed in brightly colored polyester shirts filed out of the five star hotel and onto the beach. They soon began sipping various oversized cocktails concocted from pineapple juice. And as the Hawaiian music played and the Hula dancers gyrated in their grass skirts the sweet, tantalizing smell of roasting pork filled the night as yet another luau commenced…

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P.S. Gifford P.S. Gifford's website is a transplanted Englishman living the life of Riley in Southern California. He has numerous writing credits including three collections of his short stories.

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