“You have to. Or you’ll die.”
Adam swallowed, stilling when he noticed a quiet stomping. Behind him. Whatever made the noise was huge and so heavy he didn’t dare to check what it was and instead focused on Emil’s damp gaze. Tears lingered on the lashes, but several wet streaks already glistened on the handsome face when Emil took a wheezing breath, finally looking back at Adam. “It’s fine. Unlike yours, my body can take him. My Grandma made it so. Give him to me, and you’ll be free. He won’t make you do things you don’t want anymore,” Emil uttered in the tiniest of voices. He no longer fought against fate, and lay there, ready to become an offering on the altar of a god from a bygone era.
Warm breath teased the back of Adam’s neck as he held Emil’s gaze, its volume too great to have been produced by a human, but Adam refused to face the monster for whom they’d all gathered here. His fingers trembled like branchlets of a young tree during a storm, but he steadied them by entwining his digits with Emil’s.
“I did want those things,” he mouthed, overcome with grief. All his life he’d been so afraid of his nature that he’d swept it under the carpet and go along by living a lie. Emil had been a ray of hope in a world of bleak rules, the trigger that allowed Adam to open his wings for the first time.
Emil was not a satanic mastermind. Not a cheater, but a man who loved him enough to set him free at the cost of his own liberty. They had both been victims of endless schemes from the day of Adam’s conception.
“Eat him,” said a raspy voice behind Adam, and this time, he couldn’t ignore the sense that there was something standing right behind him. With fog filling his head, Adam glanced over his shoulder and caught a glimpse of grey fur. The bulk of the monster was greater than a bear’s, but Adam refused to acknowledge its presence and looked back at the masked cult members. The moment he averted his eyes, a huge hand pushed his head forward, forcing him to bow.
On the other side of the altar, Koterski dropped to his knees. “He’s here!”
Emil blinked, arching off the rock as much as the rope allowed. “What? What does he mean?”
Nowak shook his head and awkwardly lowered his stocky body until all members of this strange pagan congregation were on their knees. Adam swallowed, struck by the eerie silence, but the moment Mrs. Janina put her hands together and started a quiet prayer, the presence behind Adam was on the move again.
Nowak, Mrs. Golonko, and Koterski all joined Mrs. Janina, their voices monotonous as they recited foreign words that sounded familiar to Adam’s ears nevertheless.
“Don’t you see him?” Adam whispered, brushing the backs of his fingers along the tempting curve of Emil’s jaw as thick, hairy legs passed through the edge of his vision, digging their hoofs into the moss.
“No,” Emil said breathlessly, straining up in the binds that wouldn’t allow him more than an inch of movement.
But Adam didn’t want to acknowledge the monster, and kept his focus on Emil even when the handsome face twisted into a scowl.
Mrs. Janina appeared at Adam’s side out of nowhere, and he flinched when she pushed something into his right hand. “It’s time for you to feast!”
Air flooded Adam’s chest then he looked down at a dagger with a wooden handle shaped like the devil’s head and a blade made of sharpened bone. His palm sweated around the grip, but his mind remained blank until she gently pushed him toward Emil.
“Eat his heart.”
“Eat. Eat. Eat,” hummed the others, their chants pushing Adam into a frenzy of hunger he didn’t understand. Saliva overflowed his mouth, and he rested his free hand against the rock, staring at the ripe flesh that had been so lovingly prepared for him. A meal to welcome him home.
Eat.
Eat.
Eat.
Emil let out a sharp gasp, suddenly thrashing against the rope, as if he’d only now understood his situation. “My heart? You said I’ll survive this! You said I could free him this way!”
Mrs. Golonko was next to him within the blink of an eye and dug her fingers into Emil’s cheeks, breathing laboriously as she held his head in place with surprising strength. “Shut up. After failing to bring him here for so long you should be grateful Chort still wants to feed on your rotten meat! Don’t make this any more difficult for us. You’ve got nothing to lose, and after so many years, we deserve what your grandmother promised!”
Adam couldn’t believe his ears, yet stepping back was physically impossible. His feet were lead slabs, his hunger a bottomless pit that would turn him inside out if it wasn’t fed soon.