Page 5 of Chaos has a Name
It had been decided, and what the Wendigo wanted, the Wendigo got.
That was the bottom line.
If one were to listen carefully, one could hear the whispers from the Great Spirit that this needed to be done.
The voices said to make it happen, and that was exactly what would be done.
When this man was chosen, his name whispered through the trees as if he was being called home, and that was all that was needed.
He.
Was.
Chosen.
Tonight, he would be going home, his sacrifice never forgotten.
He would be remembered forever even if only in the shadows byThe Hollow.
Thomas Adsila would forever be part of the reservation, and their community.
His sacrifice would be the oath they took to the future of their home.
The Hollowdemanded it.
So it must be done.
As he was tracked along the desolate Native road, leading back to his cabin not that far away, tabs were kept to ensure that he was safe.
After all, they didn’t want him harmed in any way shape or form. His well-being was important. After all, you didn’t give a damaged sacrifice to The Wendigo.
No.
It had to be pristine.
If anything were to happen to him, the search for a new sacrifice would need to be hurried, and that wasn’t how it was done.
The Wendigo would punish them.
It had happened once before, fifty years ago, and the story was told down from one generation ofThe Hollowto another.
It had been a mess.
This day was well-planned for, and it needed to go off without a hitch.
Every year, on the Summer Solstice, another soul would be harvested to feed the hunger of the Wendigo. That time of the year was here, and this man was the feast.
His body would be devoured collectively to appease the supernatural that haunted the sacred grounds.
The Hollowwould collect him, and the Wendigo would feast upon his soul, and the shadows on the reservation would be satiated once more.
Thankfully.
There was no guilt.
There was no sorrow.
It was a small price to pay to ensure they were all blessed with prosperity for the following year.
