Sea Change

Astorath the Grim looked down from the cliff at the blood sacrifice left below. The young virgin cowered by the seaside recoiling each time the ocean waves crashed upon the beach. She was very young and wore the blood jewel necklace. Each of the large rubies had been cut and polished in the shape of a tear drop fastened to the tight choker necklace in a coil of rose colored gold. Her raven black hair was pulled back tight, showing off her finely chiseled features. Astorath heard her crying. His dark green eyes were hooded by the dark shadows eminating from his black cowl. The High Priest pulled the long sharp serrated dagger from it's metal sheath running the razor sharp edge along the tip of his tongue. He pricked himself and let the blood run down the back of his throat. His eyes began to glow from within as the genetic matter of the dark red fluid seeped into his mouth. Visions of red death played before his eyes and the sound of clashing skulls filled his ears.

The ocean was coming in fast and soon the virgin would be drowned by the roaring tide. The sound of the huge waves crashing against the black shore boomed again and again. The crabs began to coast in upon the crests of the waves splaying their claws as they dragged themselves upon the shoreline.

"What are you waiting for?" asked the elder tribesman standing beside the High Priest. His robes were long and loose fluttering in the stark wind.

"That is your grand daughter." said Astorath.

"She is, just as you know." said the shaman. "Will you waste another to your indifference?"

Astorath turned his head to look down upon the spindly old human. Lightning flashed in his eyes as he pulled back his lips revealing a pair of long sharp fangs. "Tell me her name again."

The shaman pulled his crimson robes tight against his old body feel the wetness of the gale cutting into his bones like a whip. "Her name is Deliaha."

"Will you miss her?" asked the High Priest. Astorath stuck out his pointed dagger digging the hot tip deep into the bare palm of his left hand. A single drop of blood welled up from the wound and the Blood Angel quickly reached out smearing the oily fluid upon the forehead of the shaman. "I have witnessed the taking of countless sacrifices in the name of my Chapter old man. This one is different though and I question your intent." Astorath gripped the elder tightly by the neck squeezing hard. "Tell me what I want to know!"