Flash Fiction:Successor

“As you know, the role comes with much sacrifice.” The elderly bishop hobbled down the spiral stairs, bracing himself on the wall every few steps.

“I’m ready to give my all, Father.” Nicodemus helped him along, but made no suggestion that the ailing man seek medical attention. Bishop Samson had clung to the title longer than he should’ve, the selfish geezer.

Samson chuckled and said, “Your all.” 

At the bottom of the stairs, a torch-lit, stone chamber stretched before them, a large brazier burning at the center. 

“What is this place?” Nicodemus asked.

“The place you will make your sacrifice.”

Bishop Samson crumpled forward, cried out in agony. As his body grew, tentacles sprouted from his back. He wheeled on Nicodemus to reveal an alien face and many glowing eyes, saliva dripping from his mouth.

This was not the sacrifice Nicodemus had envisioned.

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