Green Desert - Chapter 2.4.2 - Fírí

The flame-lit room was painted brown with red and black religious symbols and wavy stripes all over. Symbols of Névazhíno, the God of Animals. This was a private temple. In the center of the circle of fire, my boyfriend lay on a strangely familiar rock slab, staring up at the soot-covered ceiling.

“Dear?” Vata ordered, “Come in.”

I descended the smooth wood steps, past Vata’s slippers––the insides of which were the same dusty orange as the dirt floor. What kind of people were these, to have a secret temple in their house? Zealots. Cultists.

“Remove his clothes, dear.”

My eyes jerked to Vata, but she stared over my shoulder at the doorway. “His clothes?” The flickering fires matched my dream. So did the altar. So did the intricately carved knife held with both Vata’s hands.

“Yes. It works better that way.”

They’d done this to me last night. They must have. I had fallen and injured myself. And this crazy old couple had stripped me naked and. . . “What kind of perverts are you, taking off my clothes when I was unconscious, doing disgusting things––violating me, raping me!” Blood pounded in my ears, behind my eyes. I moved towards Vata. She raised the knife slightly. I stopped.

Quietly, she said, “That is not the truth. You know the truth.”

“Why do you keep saying that?” I spun away, the dirt grinding the balls of my foot. “Get up, Zhíno. We’re leaving.” I grabbed his good shoulder, tried to lift him.