Flash Fiction Friday - Thunderstruck

Life and death are in the lightning

We trudged along quietly, the leather straps around our necks making it impossible to even turn our heads, never mind talk. We had been warned that the tribe were not friendly to outsiders, but the curiosity of youth can make you ignore the warnings of people you should trust.

The tribe had seemed welcoming at first, feeding and entertaining us, before preparing a place for us to sleep. I still remained somewhat wary of their intentions, but William, my travel partner, was sold right from the start. His tone soon changed when we awoke, sluggish, tied, and bound. My head pounded and I assumed that there had been something in the food designed to knock us out.

They continued to feed us, but the meat was tough and stringy and not like anything I had ever consumed before. Keeping it down was not easy, but they essentially force‑fed us, placing their hands over our mouths when it looked like either one of us was about to vomit.

I lost track of how long they kept us in the village, strapped to poles in plain view of everyone. I drifted in and out of consciousness and was surprised to find that the tribespeople kept us cleaned, washing us whenever we soiled ourselves, somehow keeping us pure in their eyes.

The mood changed when the clouds rolled in and the sky turned the color of bruised flesh. The men washed and fed us, while the women packed sacks with items that remained frustratingly out of sight. Soon enough, we were marching through thick vegetation, heading in the direction of a tall hill, the top of which rose from between the trees.

The climb was steep and precarious, but as we reached the top, the skies opened up and the rain came down in torrents. If we were not properly clean before, we would be soon enough. The tribe danced in the downpour, the rolling thunder serving as some natural drumbeat that drove them to near frenzy.

The clouds seemed low enough to reach out and touch, and when the lightning flashed, impossibly close, you could smell sulfur in the air. After one such flash, which came close to blinding me, I could hear the tribespeople roar with excitement. They turned me in the direction of William, who was now down and out, smoke coming off of him in tiny tendrils that looked to me like his soul slowly leaving his body.

The men pounced on him, tearing him apart and feeding one another in an orgy of gluttony. The women descended upon me, but rather than feeding, they began to dress me in cloaks and a thorny crown pulled from their sacks. When they were done, they separated, allowing the men to approach, one of whom held a human heart, William’s heart, in his hands.

He held it out to me and mimed biting the organ before bowing his head. The tribe began to chant, stomping and clapping in a rhythm that matched the now distant thunder. Fear gripped me, as I believed that I would meet the same fate as William if I did not partake of the offering.

I bit down hard, tearing a chunk of heart, which I chewed lustily, the juices sliding easily down my throat. It was delicious, so I bit down again, smiling this time as blood trickled down my chin. The women closed in again, lapping up my spillage, their hands caressing every part of my body. Suddenly comfortable, my body reacted to the female attention. My hand became unbound and I touched them back, craving their soft skin.

When I was fully naked and erect, the entire tribe dropped to their knees and began to chant a word I finally recognized…

“KING, KING, KING, KING.”

I spread my blood‑stained arms wide and accepted their love.