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Sacrifice. It was the one and only word that truly did mean something to Anastasia in this very moment. The rapid beating of her heart, the sharp stab of the thorns beneath her bare feet, the soft breeze that caused goosebumps to raise along her naked flesh- all of these feelings were dull in comparison to the yearning she felt to be one with Lucifer and His own. The heat of the ritual bonfire increased as she neared the end of the trail of thorns, now a thin sheen of sweat glistened on her forehead- whether it was from anxiety or exertion it was hard to tell. She had not yet dared to meet the gaze of any of the figures watching her, in fear of perhaps crumbling and losing her chances of being the woman she so wanted- no, [i]needed[/i] to be. 

It was with her last step on the bed of needle-like barbs that her gaze finally lifted, slowly gliding over each and every one of the maidens surrounding her. Her eyes, black in the night's cold illumination, first fixed onto a blonde- the furthest away from Him. She was one with a feral look and untamed hair, a fixed superiority about her that screamed intelligence and challenge. If she properly concentrated, Anastasia could pick out their circle with ease. It was as if the blood running through their veins called out to her their purpose. [i]The Violent.[/i] 

Next was a less prominent figure, one that seemed to belong in the shadows. Her hair, unlike the one before, was Raven black and her eyes held a mild curiosity. She seemed to be the most calm there, a tranquil quality to her that stood out from the others. Anastasia was three steps away from the trail of thorns when she placed a name for this one. [i]The Heretical.[/i]

Savouring this distraction, her gaze made its way to slide past each individual contributing to the ritual. [i]The Angry. The Greedy. The Gluttonous. The Fraudulent. The Treacherous.[/i] That left one more. A strong brow twitching in curiosity, just as she was a few paces away from where she was heading, she attempted to analyse that last Sister. She was visibly younger than the rest, built with more grace and clearly still growing out her youth throughout her body. Preparing to make her last step, with a tiny twist of reluctance, she forced her gaze to rest straight in front of her to look at Him. Lucifer. 

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All at once, a fire lit inside of her mind- an exploding array of questions and answers and a whirl of emotions ranging from joy to heartbreak, from anger to lust. It suddenly became perfectly clear why the Veneticas were so devoted to Him, why each of them looked at Him as if He was their only reason to live, to breathe, to exist. He was.

His touch knocked her out of her trance, tilting her head up so that her eyes met his. From them, she read danger and anger and fire- she was sure that if she went any closer then they would burn her. 

The feeling of being dragged away allowed her to finally shake the cobwebs from her mind. The trunk of the tree she was pushed against soothed her burning skin, giving herself an excuse to refrain from struggling against the rope being wrapped around her. She did not feel nakedness as she had formerly expected, instead she felt an eeri calm while the ropes were tied. It wasn't until she felt a strong body pressed against her own that her peace was disturbed. Again, her nerves tingled with heat and a small, almost inaudible sigh pushed past her lips. It was this feeling that her mind fixed on as the lashings rained upon her, each one more straining than the previous. 

Despite the cold, harsh agony- she did not scream. A moan would come from her throat every once in while, a moan that anyone could mistake as one of pleasure as opposed to one of pain. The last whip summoned a small smile to appear on her lips, streaked with scarlet. At some point she must of bitten down on her lower lip because a trail of blood dribbled down her chin, coating her teeth with red and making her pale skin seem white in stark contrast to the Crimson. 

It was somewhat a relief to have the ropes peeled away from her red, raw flesh- but her satisfaction did not show. The pine needles and stones and fallen branches cut into her knees as she knelt before Him. Her ears rang with every word He preached, each syllable as sharp as glass in her minds eye. Anastasia did not attempt to hide her body as her ragged garments were removed, instead her spine straightened as if prideful of what she possessed, body and soul.  

Her voice did not shake as she recited the words she was told to. Everything seemed to be sharper, far more clear now than they had ever been. She could hear the thrumming heartbeats of each of the women surrounding her, she could smell their excitement and she could feel the overwhelming [i]need[/i] for the darkness pushing itself through her veins. Her gaze travelled upwards as His did as He mocked whoever was watching from above and she grinned a grin of pure bliss. 

[i]"Ignis est cor meum. Domi ego sum."
My heart is on fire. I am home.[/i]