The Last Tag-along

You were warned to stay home and told not to follow Ryan when he left. He said he was going somewhere a little sister shouldn’t tag along, so you should just help Mom with some baking and catch a movie on HBO tonight. It hurt your feelings to hear him say this, because normally he took you everywhere.

You waited just long enough for him to get out the door before you took off out the back. Running around the house, you saw him walking towards Randall Street, so you hung back. You trailed behind Ryan for a few blocks, making sure to jump into the bushes when he looked back. Others soon joined him, mostly football friends. At Crow’s Nest Drive, it became obvious that they were headed for Riker’s Woods. You trailed back farther.

You’re scared of the woods’ darkness, afraid to enter them into realms unseen. You can hear your brother and his friends laughing and chatting up ahead. You gather your courage, close your eyes, and take six running steps into the forest. Opening your eyes, you slow your pace and continue onwards towards the sounds they are making.

Eventually, you see a light in the short distance. As you slow your steps, you come upon Ryan and the group setting up a type of low table. Underbrush and tree trunks obstruct your view. You decide to move even closer. You forget to watch where you step, worried about keeping your eyes on the guys and fearing you'll be caught. This fear feels irrational to your practical side, but a pagan part of you resonates with it, warning you of your mistake. 

Without warning, your foot catches on a root, and you tumble down in a loud crash. You hear the guys go silent, then suddenly start talking excitedly, while several start searching the woods near where you fell. In a panic, you attempt to jump up and run, but your ankle hurts too badly to put weight on it. It’s been severely sprained and won’t support you long enough to take two steps. Just enough of a movement to let the boys searching for you find you.

They drag you into a clearing where the others are, and toss you to the ground.

The larger of the two says Macuilxochitl will provide

Several of them reply in unison Blessed be Macuilxochitl

You begin to tremble. This doesn’t feel like a game. The guys who treated you like a little sister are now masked and cloaked in black, standing above you. One with a red mask makes his way towards you; he lifts you and drags you towards the altar. Too late, you realize what he plans to do. He forces you down upon the altar and begins tying you down as you struggle with him.

Why couldn’t you stay home? Red Mask asks you. 

Wide-eyed with shock, you stop struggling and look at him, trying to see his features. A wet drop hits your cheek. Then another as he ties your left hand.

You really should have listened, he says, standing up and turning his back to the altar.

Tears pour from your eyes. This isn’t a trivial game they are playing. You don’t know what they plan on doing, but you sense they mean you no good. You thrash against your bonds, slicing into the skin of your wrists and ankles.

Ryan, this isn’t funny! Let me up! You demand your brother.

He continues to stand with his back towards you. He is leading the group in some sort of mad prayer to the one they call Macuilxochitl. As they chant, Ryan turns toward you, and you can see the blue of his eyes through the red mask’s slits.

He pulls a long, sharp-looking dagger from his robes. You attempt to yank your arms loose from your bonds. Ryan was always good with knots, though; you aren’t freeing yourself. You finally let out a scream.

He holds the knife high as they finish their chant. He stares up at the night sky and says something in some guttural tongue. Then he looks back down at me. 

Macuilxochitl, accept this offering we bring to you. Bring us blessings and victory for the coming season. Your brother implores.

NO! You scream as he brings his hand down, and you know no more.