Sacrifice I tentatively raise the fork to my mouth and close my lips around it, taking the first bite. I begin to chew when the taste hits me, like a cicada on the windshield of an 18-wheeler going downhill. My tongue shrivels from the foul flavor as my eyes begin to water and my teeth burn; they seem to be actively degrading, seething from their roots buried in my skull. My jaw locks down uncontrollably, taking with it chunks of flesh from my cheeks, a vice-like clamp around the bolus in my mouth; I feel my teeth crack and chip under the force of the involuntary bite. Against my body's better judgment, I swallow. The mass scrapes past my throat and slowly scorches downward through my esophagus; I gulp my glass of water to help it along, providing little respite from its acrid toxicity. It finally hits my stomach and the real pain begins; the substance seeps into my gastric pits and enters my bloodstream while the muscles in my stomach begins convulsing violently in protest. My heart beat races and sweat begins to rain from every pore and orifice of my body. Infected blood Vigorously courses through my veins, and an adrenaline panic sets in, pounding my temples senseless.
thirty
