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Midvinterblot

Midvinterblot

A deer slipped quietly into the middle of town on the eve of the Christmas Parade while citizens were busy attaching his plastic doppelgängers to Santa Claus floats, these festive fetishes bobbing in the breeze. One wrong turn taken and he disoriented and terrified mistook shop windows for breaks in the hard forest of buildings that walled him in.
Cut and bleeding he anointed doorposts one by one as he ran the gauntlet of storefronts. He eluded the police who streamed in like acolytes to finish off this sacrament that would not succumb.
All this seemed to mean something. Something older and pagan and wild, a message from the Old Gods to the New. “We are still here.” The New Gods answered, “Not for long.” The town, a living breathing entity, demanded a blood sacrifice from its folk. The innocent creature, wide-eyed with fear wandered into the crosshairs, the Sunset and the Church.
They finally dispatched him in the town cemetery as was fitting. Put down to blee…

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