The Harvest

She loved to dance.
She lived for it. When she had been chosen as the maiden for the annual harvest festival, she was overjoyed. She would dance. In front of everyone. The world would see her dance.
It was an honor.
Each year, a maiden would be chosen to lead the village in the sacrificial rites as they celebrated the harvest.
The village had been plagued by famine for a good part of the year, but after the elders had gone off and prayed for 17 days,5 hours, and 3 minutes, the gods heard their plea and sent them rain. It rained and rained. For a month and 13 days, there was nothing but rain.
The fields were now lush green and filled and bountiful. There would be 3 weeks and 4 days of sunshine, during which they would conduct the 1st harvest. The prophet had said so.After, it would rain again.For a month and 13 days.
The first night of the harvest, and they would celebrate. Celebrate the beginning of the harvest.They would dance and sing until they couldn't. The high priestess would then conduct the sacrificial rite to thank the gods. It would be beautiful.
The other maidens chosen to aid her bathed her in a warm bath stuffed with honey, milk, roses, and 17 other herbs. It was wonderful. It was beautiful.
They combed her long black hair, clipped her nails, and scrubbed her soft brown skin.They dressed her in a beautiful yellow dress. she twirled around, and the dress spun along with her. She was happy. So very happy. It was time. She put on the most beautiful smile. It was stunning.
She walked out of the temple. The entire village was lined along the streets, waiting for her. Cheering her on.
She curtsied, then began her dance. The maidens followed . Then the village did too.She danced as she led them to the holy altar at the edge of the village. They followed.It was a splendid sight. She was graceful. The world danced with her. Danced along with her.She was a goddess bathed in the moonlight. The stars shone brighter. The wind blew with her, and The bird sang with her. The moon smiled.
One of the villagers attacked another. She pounced on him and bit off his ear. He didn't scream. He bit her back...Another attacked another, as did every other villager. They punched,their pulled and pushed,they clawed and tore at each other.
Now wasn't the time to scream. It was time to eat.
Eat, eat, and eat..
They ate each other.
Blood ran like rainwater after a storm. Bodies fell,consumed where they lay. Children and elders alike joined in the feast. Their movements not chaotic, but precise, deliberate—a dance.
A beautiful sight indeed.
This was the harvest.
She kept dancing. She would dance. For 3 weeks and 3 days. She would dance.
The harvest had begun.

Comments

Reader J.
First time reading this piece, my first thoughts were: "Oh this is so lovely!" Everything is so vividly described; the warm bath, the beautiful dress, adoring crowd and the dance. I had no idea what I was getting myself into. The sudden eruption of... Cannibalism? That's so unsettling. And the maiden kept dancing, as if she was oblivious of what was going on. Unless, that was the actual harvest? Not of crops but of the villagers themselves? Madness! I think this author has a very strong narrative control, the ability to remain consistent even as the story heads into chaos, and the use of precise timing. Very skilled storyteller.