Water dripped from the ceiling as gales rocked the house. Dakota held Jesus in his arms, the two of them huddled in a corner. It was mid-day, but the only light came from the lightning streaking across the sky.

Despite his fear, Dakota edged over to a window. Arcs of electricity traced through the air, their tendrils splaying from horizon to horizon. What had started as the occasional bolt was now a crackling, near-constant cacophony of light of sound.

Dakota’s eyes widened as a large bolt sped across his sight. It moved slower than the rest, undulating in chaotic bursts. He didn’t know lightning could do that.

The bolt reared above the island, coiling in on itself almost like a…serpent. Another slow-moving bolt, even bigger than the last, came from the other direction. The two bolts circled each other, spiralling upwards like a double helix. Lightning fell faster and harder, shattering trees and blowing craters in the ground as the two bolts ascended.

He shrank from the window, this wasn’t a normal storm. Jesus’ trembling form pressed itself into Dakota’s chest.

He tried calming the creature but he couldn’t even hear himself speak.

His neck hair stood on end.

A flash of light, practically on top of them, then the chimney exploded. Dakota felt something collide with his hip, pain shooting through him. Jesus bolted from his arms running towards a large hole blown through the front door.

“JESUS, NO.”

Dakota tried standing but his legs kept buckling. Fingernails digging into the floorboards, he dragged himself to the door. Lightning blasted the landscape as the cyclone drove debris and rain into his face. Jesus was nowhere to be seen.

Teeth grit, he rolled onto his side and wrenched open the door, letting the elements rip inside.

“JESUUUSS.”

His voice carried mere feet in front of him before being hurled back into his face. Clutching the doorframe, he hauled himself to his feet and ventured into the flashing gloom.

A gust of wind sent him stumbling before another drove him to the ground. A flash of light in front of him, the world exploded, dirt pelting his body. Blood in his mouth.

Dakota crawled forwards, rain knifing him across the back.

“JETHUTH.”

His tongue felt mushy. A flash to his left. This time he was quick enough to look away before being blasted with earth.

Tears mingled with the rain running down his face. He would never find the lamb in these conditions.

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Dakota curled into a ball, sheltering in a crater. His eyes closed, mind turning within itself to hide from the storm…and found a tether, running from him into the distance. The tether was thick.

He laboured out of the crater and onto open ground. The line led to the field past the barn.

He managed a limp, then a run, then a sprint.

Barreling into the field he saw him. A little white bundle hunkered next to the shed. Dakota collapsed next to the lamb, cradling it in his arms. They needed to get back to the hou…

The shed detonated, blasting him off his feet. He crushed Jesus in a hug as they crashed into the ground. They needed to…they needed…they…

Dakota’s vision darkened as the lightning serpents danced above him.

The goblin chief hurried into the middle of the camp. He shrieked at the goblins following him. There was no time to waste, not if they wanted to survive. The goblins picked up their pace, burdened by the immense log on their shoulders.

Now they needed the offering. The chief turned, seizing the closest goblin.

BOOOMMmmm

The first rumble of lightning, they were running out of time. The chief dragged the squirming creature to the end of the log.

“Set it down, DOWN!”

The log collapsed, crushing a couple of legs on the way. Ripping a rope from the nearest tent, he lashed the small goblin to the end of the pole.

“Will…you…stop…struggling.”

He gripped the goblin’s head and smashed it into the trunk. That was better.

The chief hoped this would work. He didn’t typically participate in sacrifices, the idea of submitting to any sort of “higher being” made him nauseated. But exceptions existed.

The first drops of rain splattered against his head as he finished tying the wretched creature to the pole. He clubbed it once more as a precaution before backing away.

“SEND IT UP.”

The boom of thunder drowned out his voice.

Roaring, he pushed aside some confused goblins and grabbed one of the many ropes leading from the end of the pole where the goblin was lashed.

He pointed at the rope and then hauled on it pulling the log up. The tribe slowly did the same, some pulling off center to keep it from falling over.

The base of the tree thunked into the shallow pit the goblins had dug earlier, digging into the earth as the top swung upwards.

The chief tied off his end once the log stood straight. It was the tallest tree they could find on short notice but it barely stood above the forest surrounding the camp.

Wiping sweat from his face, the chief ripped an axe from a nearby goblin and hacked at the closest trees. If you wanted something done right…

This could be disastrous, or the best day of the chief’s life. Stories were told of the gifts the lightning gods would bestow on those who brought worthy offerings.

The chief was suddenly stricken, he had assumed a live sacrifice would be good enough but would the gods really think highly of one of the lowborn? They were hardly above the dirt he walked on. What if they punished him for his impertinence?

The chief strode towards a rope, he needed to add more sacrifices! Yes, that was the answer.

He gripped a line just as a bolt of lightning struck the goblin on top of the log.

Vibrating, he tried to let go as chunks of wood and flesh peppered him. It appeared the gods were satisfied with the sacrifice.