The Blood Fields

Macabre Monday #2

In this place, the trees bleed too. I grab the dirt and pinch it between my fingers, watching it crumble into small particles.

"It's been thirty-four days since the last rain." The Chancellor says.

"I Know. The blood fields require more offerings to sustain. This is the second one this month."

The chancellor nods his head but does not provide any insight into our current predicament. He and the other religious zealots believe these droughts to be God's will. The truth is that years of pollution and human negligence raised the global temperature by about four degrees Celsius, lengthening the gap between periods of rain. While water was scarce, there was one resource we had in excess. Humans.

"How many of the Lord's chosen do you require?"

"Twenty-five, Chancellor."

"And how many of the innocent?"

I hated that question. There was no science to support that the blood of an infant was any purer than an adult. They had less blood volume altogether, making their deaths pointless. Over generations, we bred the plants to feed on the blood of the chosen, since blood was eighty to eighty-five percent water. The killing of babes came later after the Chancellor came into power.

"One should suffice."

"Very well," The Chancellor said. "It is God's will."

"God's Will."

I looked up, my eyes scanning over the fields. A thick maroon sap leaked from the trees as they wept, or perhaps salivated. Here everything bleeds.