Someone's voice rose above the noise of Archie groaning. It was an aged, croaking, unrecognised voice that cried out "Sacrifice him now!", a voice red with bloodlust and yellow with hatred.
With shock I realised the voice was mine.
But Doug continued talking, yelling at the sky, head thrown back in weird ecstasy
"Yea, Lord, release us from the torment of this hell!"
There could be no release if there was no sacrifice.
I stood above Archie.
And with all the force the woods could muster, my fist crashed noisily into Doug's face and he crumpled slowly to the ground.