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The Ritual Chapter One: The Key
“The Ritual” Chapter One: The Key Again, I find myself deep within the innermost chamber of the temple, covered in blood. This is where it all began, and this is where it too shall end. There is a slight smell of iron that often lingers once awake, reminding me that nothing has changed. For nearly a week now, I have had the same dream, every single night. The strange part about it is that nothing about it is ever any different. It always remains unchanged.. Every minor detail, every emotion, the way it plays out..it’s always exactly the same. I quickly shake my thoughts away, rubbing my head in an attempt to distract myself. It seems silly, being a woman in my early twenties to be concerned with dream interpretation. I stretch out, shutting off my alarm clock and look reluctantly towards my school work sitting not-so-neatly on my dresser. I’ve never been a morning person. Slowly, I begin getting ready for the day. It’s only the second day of school and my new professor already had us doing homework.. It’s going to be a long quarter, I thought to myself. This is my first year going to any college classes. My therapist thought it would be a good way to get me out of the house and ‘back to my old self’.
Lucky me. Secretly, I know my parents are thrilled, they think I need to socialize more, join more clubs or something. I’ve always been a bit of an outsider, preferring a few close friends over large groups any day of the week. My friends often joke around saying I’m some kind of anarchist, I like it that way..they get me. Finally ready for my second day and with coffee in hand, I fumble my school work and rush out the door. Immediately, I hit something. Hard. All I see is a flurry of papers floating to the ground and coffee all over the front of my best friend’s shirt. “Oh my god! Are you okay Alisha?? I’m so sorry!”, I shrieked, looking at the coffee stain on her new tie dye sweater. “You’re sorry?! What about your coffee??”, she asks. I shrug it off saying “Eh, that’s alright, you have enough energy for the both of us.” We both laughed at that declaration. Alisha was always so positive, her laugh was infectious. She always seemed to be moving at the speed of light, she’s like caffeine trapped in a human body. I love her so much, I swear she’s contagious. We gather up all my papers for school and head out the door in a hurry. We walk the rest of the way to campus together, chatting the whole time about nothing in particular.
Then, she turns to me and asks, “So, did you still have that same dream again last night?”. I nod my head, wishing I had never told her about it in the first place. “I don’t know how you can dream about that every night and not wake up screaming. It’s so creepy!” she shudders at the thought. “I don’t really know either.”, I replied. I guess I had always just looked at this dream differently. Plus, having it every night, I’m getting pretty used to it at this point. But, I can definitely understand why it might make someone feel uneasy..to say the least..especially the details. We get to my classroom and say goodbye, planning to meet up for lunch. The class is just beginning to quiet down as I take my seat. My professor, Mr. Yarrow, is a short, plump, bald man with rosy cheeks and a belly that says he partakes in his fair share of frothy beverages. This class was enjoyable, as far as classes go. Creative writing has always been fairly easy for me and something I’ve grown to like over the years. Today, we will learn about our projects for the rest of the quarter. We were expected to write a short story, which I had anticipated, since it was noted in the syllabus.
But, of course, there was a twist. The twist? The subject of our short story would be drawn out of a hat, at random. I just hoped to get a good topic, I didn’t want to get stuck trying to write a short story about cheese or something. Finally, it was my turn. So far, the subjects were fairly general; family, overcoming obstacles, rags to riches, romance etc. I walked up to the front desk and shoved my hand deep into the hat and swirled it around until I felt like I had a good one and then handed it to Mr. Yarrow. “Ooh,” he said happily, “Your topic is dreams!”. Oh boy, I thought..of all the topics, of course I end up picking dreams. I almost feel like writing about cheese would have been easier. Dreams are such a broad subject. At least I have a lot to work with I suppose. I walk back to my desk and wait for the rest of the class to finish picking their topics. My Intro to Mythology class seemed to fly right by, which was good because by the time it was over I was starving and ready for lunch. I headed to meet up with Alisha in the cafeteria. She was already seated and eagerly waving me over to her table. Alisha was so pretty even with a coffee stain on her outfit. Her brown hair was long, thick and somewhat untameable, it framed her face perfectly and her caramel skin had always been something I’ve been jealous of.
Being pale, freckled and a redhead myself, I didn’t exactly tan well. We sat down for lunch like always and talked about our classes so far. Then Alisha got all kinds of giddy and asked, “Did you hear about the carnival tonight?!?” I shook my head at her, “No, what carnival?” I replied. “Apparently there is going to be a haunted carnival for the weekend!! We have to go!! We can bring John too.” John was our other bestie, a tall, fit goofball of a human who we couldn’t help but adore. “Sounds fun, we can meet up once it gets dark and check it out.” I replied. The rest of the school day seemed to drag on, but finally it was over. I walked briskly home, not paying attention to much aside from the music on my headphones. Once home, I immediately start working on the little homework I had, aside from my short story. That project would need to wait until after the carnival. I was ready to go have some fun, it had been awhile since my breakup that I’d gone out at all, so I was excited. In the back of my mind I just hoped my ex, Billy, wouldnt be there. The thought alone made my stomach turn and the rest of me cringe. Ugh. I pushed the thoughts from my mind and tried to focus on something else.
I started picking out an outfit to wear to the carnival as a distraction. I snatched up some of my flare bottom, tight-fitting jeans and a cute purple v-neck. My sneakers and my favorite zip up sweater were the last things I grabbed. I had never been much of a girly girl, I maybe wore dresses about once a year, if that. I proceeded to head downstairs, where my mother appeared to be in some kind of a frenzy trying to make dinner. She buzzed around, half chaotic attempting to do too many things at once. I chuckled at her and offered to help her finish up before something went wrong. She agrees, laughing at the comment and rolling her eyes. My mom and I have always had a great back and forth when it comes to humor. People often say that we look alike, even though her hair is a deep brown and she is a bit taller than myself. When she wasn’t force feeding the family, she worked as a counselor to troubled youths in the area. She’s really good at her job and enjoys it. I think wanting to help people must run in the family. My dad had taken to the living room area and was sitting in his chair watching football. He had gotten really good at ignoring any shenanigans in the kitchen. After finishing up in the kitchen with my mom, I decide to plop down on the couch and watch the game with dad.
We swap insights and hoot and holler at the players on the tv, acting as if they can hear us. This has become a ritual on game nights for him and I, our father-daughter bonding time over beers and sports. My dad was a tall, bald man who was quite a bit older than my mom. He had been in the military when he was younger and was a man of few words. But, he was also the type of man that if he talked, you wanted to listen. He was famous for his one-liners and his top-notch sarcasm. I can only imagine I inherited the same sense of humor, being somewhat of a smartass myself. Once the football game was over, and once my dad was done griping about the Seahawks losing again, we headed into the kitchen to grab some dinner. My mom, finally settling down from her ‘kitchen chaos’, had made her famous chicken and parsley noodles, my favorite. Famished, I sat down and ate greedily, stopping every few bites for some small talk about the day. “I think that Alisha, John and I are going to go check out the haunted carnival that’s in town tonight for a few hours.” I mentioned. My dad, still stuffing his face with chicken, simply nodded. My mom, in her usual manner, is excited to see me going out to interact with people and proceeds to urge me to take a heavier coat.
She has always been a bit of a worrier, but I love her for it. After dinner, I sprint upstairs to grab my small bag that I call my purse. I’m not really sure why I even have a purse. It’s usually just full of snacks, hair ties, and an assortment of pretty rocks that continue to grow with each of my outings. *Bzz bzz..* I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket and take it out to see a message from John, “Be ready in ten minutes, the two of us can take my truck, Alisha is going to meet us there. Oh, and is there food at your house? I’m hungry!!” I rolled my eyes and replied back, assuring him and his hollow leg that my mom would be happy to make him a plate. I don’t know where he puts all the food that he eats without seeming to gain any weight, honestly, it’s rather impressive. Ten minutes later I hear the familiar sound of John’s truck in the driveway. “Hi mom!!” I hear him bellow out, “I hear you made your famous chicken tonight? You know how much I love your cooking!”, John exclaims cheerfully. This comment gets my mom all kinds of giddy and she excitedly fixes him up a plate. John can’t contain his enthusiasm, he is the type of person that has a smile a mile wide and one of those laughs that makes you laugh along with him.
Finishing up his plate, John thanks my mom, shakes my dad’s hand and we scurry out the door promising to be careful. Alisha planned to meet us at the carnival once her shift was over at the local retirement home. She works as a caregiver. Her clients absolutely adore her, and she them. She has always been naturally gifted when it came to nurturing others. Being late October, it was already beginning to get dark outside and the air had a bit of a bite to it. The leaves from the trees blanketed the ground and the clouds looked somewhat menacingly gray, like a storm might be brewing. But, thankfully, it wasn’t raining for once, which was usually the norm this time of year in the North Cascades. We drove John’s old pickup down winding back roads that cut through the thick, moss covered trees growing along the river. Living in the boonies, we were accustomed to being a half an hour away from anything remotely civilized. John and I joked around the whole drive, constantly making fun of each others quirks. Slowly but surely, lights and buildings started appearing as we came to the nearest town. There were more cars than typical cruising the town in anticipation of the weekend events.
Traffic slowed as we approached the carnival, the sounds of ferris wheel riders and the smell of deep fried everything filled the air. People mingled together around the rides and food vendors, smiling and devouring various treats. I loved the carnival, all the people watching and joy on everyones face reminded me of simpler times. The food was always my favorite, I thought to myself, scanning the food cart options this year. Although, I was also anxious to see what kind of haunted attractions they had put together. We pulled the truck into a not too tight spot and wandered towards the town park where everything had been set up. The haunted house was impossible to miss and stood in the middle of everything, a dark and foreboding structure covered in cobwebs. Screams and laughter echoed from inside as we strolled by. “Let’s figure out where to meet Alisha.” I voice over the wails of people nearby. John nods and takes out his phone to get ahold of her and let her know where we would be. We both knew better than to do anything too fun without her, otherwise we would never hear the end of it. John let Alisha know we’d meet her near the entrance of the haunted house, it sounded like she had just arrived so we wouldn’t need to wait long.
I looked around, taking a glance at the other two attractions that had been set up. There was what appeared to be some sort of freak show tent that had a sign posted outside declaring ‘NO MINORS’ and then there was a much smaller, cozier looking tent with a neon sign that read ‘Psychic Readings’. Good choices, I thought to myself. I look back towards the haunted house just in time to see Alisha walking hurriedly towards us. Her furry boots, leggings and flannel outfit were, of course, perfect for the season. “Ooh, you guys, they have a freak show!! Let’s get in line for some wristbands!” She squeals, looking like a kid in a candy store. Her anticipation seems to seep out to John and I and the three of us rush to get in line. The regular wristbands covered two main attractions and the rides, which was all I could afford. “So, haunted house first?” I ask. John and Alisha, both grinning ear to ear, each nod in agreement. The line for the haunted house is short and we enter through the looming doorway with trepidation. Immediately, we are plunged into darkness and struggling to allow our eyes to adjust. The house is thick with mist from a hidden fog machine and low lighting is placed throughout.
We carefully round the first corner and come face to face with a masked man holding a running chainsaw. Alisha and I both scream and jump to hold onto John, who is laughing at us hysterically. I hit him in the shoulder lovingly as we quickly ran past the man. We then find ourselves in a hallway being chased by a creepy little girl riding a tricycle. We shuffle the rest of the way through the haunted house, barely making it by the bloody clowns without hitting them. The three of us are screaming and laughing all the way until we finally make it through, bursting out of the exit. With our adrenaline rushing, and with sore cheeks from all the chuckling, we struggle to catch our breath once safely outside. After we had all finished harping on one another and arguing over who had been most scared, we set our sights on the other main attractions. “Well, you KNOW I can’t pass up the freak show!” exclaimed Alisha. “I’m with you on that one.” adds John, who was seemingly distracted by the belly dancers welcoming people inside. I on the other hand have an admittedly weak stomach and had heard there was going to be acts of body suspension once inside. “I think I might try the psychic instead guys.
Meet you back here afterwards?” Knowing all too well why I was passing on the freak show, the two of them agreed and headed inside past the belly dancers, much to John’s delight. I then turned my attention to the psychic’s tent and made my way towards the entrance. The inside of the tent was set up quite comfortably with two large, cushy chairs and some beautiful tapestries hung on the walls. There were various crystals and candles decorating the space and a faint smell of incense that hung in the air. “Welcome, my dear. Would you like a reading?” I hear. Looking around I spot an older woman near the back of the tent. As I approach her, I notice that she is seated at a table with an open chair opposite of her. I sit down and say “Yes, I would. I’ve never had one before so this will be a first for me.” She smiles knowingly and with a calmness that feels like home. “Oh, how exciting dear. Please, tell me, what is your name?” She speaks softly, reminding me of my grandmother with her flowing white hair and striking blue eyes. “Lilith” I reply. The old woman holds out her hands and invites me to do the same. She then holds my hands palm up, feeling each line with her aged fingers.
“You walk in two worlds, my dear. One foot here and with one foot in another.” Confused, I stay quiet and wait for her to continue. “You have an undeveloped gift that is plaguing you with visions each night.” she pauses before going on, “Visions of blood and a temple.” At this comment, the hair on my arms stood on end. It took me a moment to realize that my mouth was open as I struggled to find the words to ask, “How could you possibly know that?”. A sly smile crept across her face as she continued, “There is a reason you are having this dream. It is not by chance that you have experienced this particular ritual.” . Nearly dizzy with confusion and disbelief, I can no longer speak. I am frozen in the chair and can only listen intently to the old woman. “This ritual is meant to indicate a specific type of initiation, one of great importance. It is imperative that you accept these visions and do not fear what they have shown you. You have been given the knowledge of the temple and are now bound by blood to protect it.” Her tone is more serious as she says this. She releases my hands and turns around to shuffle through a nearby dresser. A moment later she turns back, holding out a long silver dagger with an old worn wooden handle.
“When the time is right, you will know how to use this. Do not be afraid. This is the key.” She hands me the dagger and clasps my hands around it tightly. “Thank you.” I whisper to her, hardly recognizing my own voice. I place the dagger safely in my purse and in a daze, head out the same way I had entered. Upon exiting the tent, I can hardly hear the crowds of people around me over the thoughts in my own head. How could she have known about my dreams? What on earth would I need to use a dagger for and why did she call it ‘the key’? My brain is frantic and simply cannot make sense of what had just taken place in that tent. I then spot John and Alisha making their way out of the freak show and walk towards them, trying to appear normal. “How was the show you guys?” I stammer. “It was SO COOL!!” Alisha yells. “Yeah, there were sword swallowers and someone laid on hot coals!!”John added, grinning wildly, “What about you? How was the psychic??” he asks. I shuffled somewhat uncomfortably, fidgeting with my long, red hair.. “It was..interesting..definitely not what I expected.” I answer, praying they don’t continue to pry. John shrugs, “Well, you’ll have to try the freak show next time.
” he says. I nod in agreement and let out a sigh of relief that they didn’t ask anything else. The three of us mosied about, taking our time riding the ferris wheel, tilt-a-whirl and the rest of the rides. Even though I was enjoying myself, I couldn’t seem to shake the thoughts of what the psychic had said. I clutched my purse closer to me, feeling the dagger she had given me inside. I wondered about its purpose and felt my stomach turn to knots worrying about what might lead me to use it. Trying to alleviate the haze in my head, I turned my attention back to my friends who were now wandering back towards the parking lot to head home for the night. We hugged each other fondly saying goodbye, then John and I hopped in his truck as Alisha settled into her car beside us. “Drive safe!! Love you guys!!” she hollers at the two of us, making her way out of the lot. The two of us shout back and proceed to exit as well. Darkness had fully settled in at this point and once we had driven out of the town, the scenery was nowhere to be found outside of the headlights. The forest appeared almost haunted at night, shadows danced around every turn, leaving your mind to wander and letting your imagination roam.
The clouds from earlier had mostly cleared now and a vast tapestry of stars now showed in their place. Without lights from civilization, the stars were able to fully dominate the sky, painting it with milky white streaks. Beautiful, I thought to myself, staring at the moon, which was nearly full. It felt like only moments later we were pulling into my driveway. Surprised that I had seemed to lose track of the ride, and the time, I shuffled to grab my things and hugged John goodbye, making him promise to let me know when he got home safe. The house was quiet as I entered, my mom and dad had already headed to bed for the night. I noticed that my mother had thoughtfully left my bedside lamp on for me as I got to my room. At that moment, I realized how exhausted I was from the events of the day. My head was seemingly still caught in a fog as I changed into my comfy clothes and crawled in bed. Laying in bed, I glanced once more at my purse, picturing the dagger inside. Questions swirled in my brain about what the psychic had shared with me. Visions of blood and the temple flooded my mind, feeling like intruders into my thoughts. As I slowly drifted off to sleep, I hoped that tonight would be different.
Chapter Two: The Temple The sun rays beaming through the window added a soft yellow hue to the inside walls of the mission temple. A long, aged heavy wooden table with benches to match on either side took up most of the space in the dining room. In front of me sat a plate, empty aside from a few bread crumbs from our lunch servings. On each side of me sat a fellow monk, although I dared not look at them out of fear of the potential repercussions. The unfortunate monk to my right was to be sent back today, a dreaded punishment for those who displeased The One. I could do nothing but bite my trembling lip and try to suppress the tears building in my eyes. I feared for him. I knew not what it was like to be sent back, I only knew that it would be painful. My stomach twisted uncontrollably as I braced for what I knew was about to happen next. An uncomfortable, heavy energy entered the dining room, dominating over the space, indicating that The One was indeed present. A darkness accompanied him as if it were his shadow, blocking the light that had previously shown through the mission window. I focused as intently as I could on the empty plate before me, too terrified to shift my gaze elsewhere.
My hands grasped the wooden bench beneath me as I tried to stop biting my now bleeding bottom lip. The One drew closer to the monk that sat beside me with an air of authority and dominion that made me feel very small and weak. My stomach knotted up, threatening to increase the intense dizziness that was beginning to take over my body. Unrelenting fear was all I knew, nothing more. Then there came the sounds. The sudden, sickening sound of bones being crushed in the skull of the monk being sent back. The One dug his teeth, long and sharp, and unrelenting, deep into the monks brain. There was no scream, just the echoes of crunching marrow and the slosh of blood and brain matter. A moment later, the sound finally stopped and there was silence. But, the silence was quickly shattered by a wailing sound, far off in the distance. The sound of a newborn child, born Elsewhere. The monk had been sent back, to start anew, back to the beginning. Still fighting off the urge to vomit, I attempted to hide the trembling of my body as The One shifted his focus to me. His voice, deep, dark and commanding, carried with it an undeniable force of authority as he spoke, “How much longer do you have with us, monk?”.
My voice quivered as I struggled to reply, “Only moments, sir.” The energy surrounding The One shifted slightly, “Good. You have come far, you must now prepare for what comes next.” he says, as he motions towards the spiraling stairs that lead down to the innermost chamber of the temple. Understanding what was expected of me, I exited the familiar dining room and made my way to the monk quarters to gather my belongings. The necessary items had been carefully placed on the foot of the perfectly made bed that I had used for the last four years. A simple pair of ironed, cloth pants and a plain white shirt, these had been topped off with a plain leather bound journal. Writing down my future learnings was about to become of the utmost importance. Once one descended, they returned changed. It was crucial to not forget any knowledge that had been gifted during the Ritual. © 2024 Ugly_MuseAuthors Note
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Added on December 5, 2024 Last Updated on December 5, 2024 Tags:
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