Chapter Text
Scott loved the chaos of the family home even more now; the atmosphere a stark contrast to his regimented days in the Air Force. Not to say that he didn't enjoy the Force, and it suited him well, but there was nothing better than the welcome he received when he stepped over the threshold. Yet there was one person in the house who often found it too much, and Scott had promised to take him away from it all when he got leave. Scott never wanted to break a promise to his brothers. So the day after his return he'd driven them to the middle of nowhere, on a almost moonless night, so John could get some peace while gazing at the stars. Scott shouldered most of the camping equipment while John carried a small rucksack and his precious telescope. Scott had hoped to have their tent set up before nightfall, but Gordon and Alan had tried to bring the house down and Scott had been required to sort them out.
The air was cool as they walked through the wooded area towards the open grasslands beyond. As they carefully made their way through in the dim light, the flickering from a fire caught Scott's eye. It didn't bother Scott at first, it wasn't uncommon to find kids drinking around fires in the area, he'd done it himself a few times. However, as they drew level with the fire something about the group felt off. The fire was off to the side, not the centre, and they were chanting something in low tones. Scott slowed enough to draw level with John and placed a hand on the teenager's shoulder. John had spotted the gathering too.
"Let's not disturb them." Scott whispered as they continued forward.
It was the snapping of a branch to their right that put Scott on high alert. His eyes darted to pinpoint the cause only to rest on a hooded figure up ahead. Scott's grip on John tightened, pushing him forward, as Scott surveyed the area. The canopy and light from the fire cast dark haunting shadows.
"We're just passing through."
Scott wanted to ensure the man that they meant no harm, that they wouldn't disturb them. The figure nodded. A few steps later and a sound came from behind Scott. He twisted to see three cloaked figures running towards them. Heart in his throat, Scott feared the worst.
"Run, John! Run!"
Scott threaded his hand under John's arm and dragged him forward as he started to run. The surprise in John's face shifted to one of seriousness and Scott was relieved when John found his feet. The moment hands fell on Scott he let go of John.
"Keep running, John!"
Scott shouted, angry boiling up. His hand was already a fist when he swung around and slammed it into one of the assailants. He made contact with flesh but the weight of his backpack unbalanced him and dragged him down. Scott slipped his arms from the rucksack and bolted upright, only to be body slammed. He hit the ground hard, sticks dug into his back as the air was knocked out of him. Hands grabbed his arms and his body was forced over. Thrashing his legs did nothing as cable ties were tightened around his wrists. They cut into his flesh. Scott resisted but it was futile, even with his training, fighting off three men who had the upper hand was near impossible. Once they had bound his legs, Scott knew there was little he could do.
With his face in the dirt, Scott strained his head towards John. Relief filled his heart as he watched the ginger mop get further away. John wasn't a runner, but fear was an incredible motivator. The fact that John had gotten away gave Scott courage to face whatever was about to happen. His eyes fell on the bags in the hand of one of the hooded men. It was unceremoniously thrown to the ground with a clunk and the case containing John's telescope bounced before coming to rest. The thought of damage to something so prized fanned the flames of Scott's heart. As John disappeared into the shadows of the night a gag was placed into Scott's mouth.
The figures gathered and manhandled Scott to the clearing. He was placed on a carved table into the centre of the circle. His cable around his feet was cut, his legs forced apart and bound to the table. Breathing deeply through his nose like an angry bull, Scott rocked and fought as something was tied around each wrist. Two men grabbed each lashing of rope. Someone cut the cable tie and before Scott could react his arms were yanked to the sides and up where they were bound like his feet. With him tied up, the assailants rejoined the circle and the chant.
A hooded figure stepped forward and the chanting stopped. The crackle of the fire was the only thing to be heard.
"The lamb has arrived. The Devil has fulfilled his promises and supplied the sacrifice. Let the ritual begin!"