The meadow. Long grass shifting in the warm wind. The summer dress caresses my legs, as I walk toward our house. My long black hair falls down my back, and I can feel the warmth of the sun surrounds me. My mother is waiting. She is calling me saying it is dinner time. As I run towards the house, I can see my father has returned from hunting. The horse is in the fold, and my father is cleaning his rifle at our porch. I run in the high grass, as I am accustomed to move on the prairie. 7 years old and not a bad thought in my soul.
My father always says we need to keep the spirit of our ancestors close and not forget our historic relevance. The Indian blood runs thick in my veins and proudness fills my chest.
I am dreaming I think. Sudden changes. Clouds come faster. Blackness.
Where am I? blood everywhere. Chanting and people in ropes are standing in a circle. Blood smell and death fills my nostrils. I scream. Terror fills me, when I recognize the daemon. It is made of my friend’s blood and their corpses lies beneath it in a pile.
I scream as the knife hits me in the chest and my spirit leaves my body. Dark souls are waiting to carry me to the abyss. To add my power and life essence to the enchantment. The ritual is almost finished I realize just before spirit claws burry themselves in my illusive body.
Time to suffer eternity!