Man’s Inhumanity

Going for a different tone than in my first two short stories.
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Thunder rolled through the valley as the procession marched toward the clearing. In the lead, a small girl, held high for all to see, crying.

In the midst of the clearing was laid a sacrificial pier, reaching upward to the crackling heavens. A virgin sacrifice must be made, or so was thought. Silently, the mob gathered round. The girl, now struggling but in vain, is tied to the center stake.

A fire lit, burning, blazing. The monstrous deed was done.

Rain begins to pour down from the heavens. The people perceive it as a blessing, when the skies are really weeping.