Lightning streaked the sky.
Randy woke as the thunder crashed to find himself strapped to the cold concrete of the mausoleum. He wished he could rub his aching back. Or just stretch, but rough rope cut into both wrist and ankle. A scream squeaked past strained vocal chords and trembling lips.
The gathered didn’t notice his struggles, their glazed eyes stared into the distance from within deep hoods.
Eyes he knew. These people bought his goats.
A smiling, dagger toting man approached the mausoleum.
“Wait! I’ll give you a goat. A freebie.”
“Goat?” He smiled. “Tonight, you are the goat.”
Since we’re at the last #FridayFictioneers of the year, I want to thank everyone who has read, liked, and/or commented on my stories here. Hope you all have a great new year with lots of new stories to read and tell!
#FridayFictioneers is a weekly blog link up hosted by Rochelle over at RochelleWisoff.com. You should totally check it out and perhaps try your hand at writing a 100 word story.