Photo © Hector Navarro via Google Photosphere
Bara had been easy enough to follow. Stupid, undisciplined, disobedient–no matter how much sense Mato tried beating into him. But the sins of the son were the failures of the father.
With how Bara had been talking, Mato suspected a gang of ne’er-do-wells. Instead he confronted a Grallian cult.
Aha, the reason behind the crop failures, the diseased animals, the stillbirths.
What hubris, thinking he’d grab Bara and escape. They’d overwhelmed him, strapped him to a slimy altar. With disgusting rituals, they sacrificed him to their pestilent god. The whole time, Bara just watched, first wary, then… exultant.
Three days it took Mato to slither from that cave, barely human. Sunlight blinded his cloudy frog eyes. He flexed a tentacle, grotesque power flowing through him. They’d degenerated his body, but his mind was too strong to dissolve. Mato was still a soldier.
He knew what he had to do.
Word count: 150. Written for this week’s What Pegman Saw writing prompt. Big thanks to Josh and Karen for hosting this interesting challenge! This week, Pegman takes us to the Dominican Republic. The photo above was taken at Los Tres Ojos (Three Eyes) National Park in Santo Domingo. Click on the link above to see the images other participants found, and the stories they were inspired to write. And as always, feel free to join in!
I didn’t intend the connection between the plague god Gral and our current virus pandemic, but maybe I was unconsciously inspired by our real-life pestilence. We’ve seen Gral’s followers before on this blog, in the stories Corrupted Call and Vengeance is a Poisonous Prayer. Thank goodness I looked those up, because they feature a character named Marrak, and I had coincidentally named the father character in this story Marek! I must really like that name. Well, maybe it’s like John / Jean / Johannes in Europe, and a lot of people are named some variant of Marek in this part of Eneana.