Genesis 1:1 In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth.
Billie didn't feel like any different than she did before she was declared some kind of God chosen leader. She was nervous about the ritual. She still didn't know anything about it, or why she's doing it, or what the point of it is.
She was called over the intercom after supper. A reminder that she should report to the Tenth floor at midnight. It felt weird. Everyone in her class looked at her all funny.
She felt out casted since her 'cleansing'. It was like she was different from everyone else. She hated it, because that's how it felt at school, too.
When 12am struck, Billie was on the Tenth floor. It was dark, and all the doors were closed except one at the end of the hall. It had light emitting from it. She'd be in idiot if she didn't know which room she needed to be in.
Grace was inside. There was a large tub on the very far end of the room, like a hot tub, and then close to the entrance was a bed with white sheets and lace curtains around it.
Grace was mixing a glass of water on a table by the edge of the bed when Billie walked in. She was in a white robe, and stood up the moment Billie walked in.
"What are you doing, Gracie?" Billie asks.
Grace put the glass down, grabbing some ancient dagger, then covering everything else in the table with a linen cloth.
"I'm preparing." she said curtly.
She wasn't being as nice as she usually is. Her face didn't have her kind smile, just a distraught frown.
"Are you okay?" Billie asked, watching as she came over to her.
"Sit down." Grace commanded, gesturing at the bed.
Billie walked over, sitting down at the edge of the bed nervously.
She looked at the weapon on Grace's hand, her heart began pounding against her chest. She hoped these rituals didn't consist of her being killed over and over until she eventually dies.
"What are you gonna use that for?" Billie asks.
"You have to be quiet." Grace told her.
"First, tell me what it's for."
The woman put the knife up, pointed it down towards her arm, then pressed it against her wrist until blood seeped from it.
Billie grimaced, shutting her eyes as if the knife had pressed against her skin.
Grace grabbed a hold of her hair, tugging it so Billie's head tilts down.
"Open your mouth."
When she did, Grace put her bleeding wrist against her tongue. The taste of was warm, and metallic. Billie swallowed.
"Why'd you do that?" she asked, watching the woman walk towards the table where the object were covered in white linen.
"Sacrifice." Grace muttered. "The headmistress believes that once you've been cleansed, your spirit becomes hungry for blood."
