my stealth fighter

Chapter 186 Offerings
The head of the goat fell to the ground, and the black goat, which was bleating just now, was decapitated in an instant, and its body occasionally twitched a few times due to nerve and muscle reflexes, making the scene even more terrifying.

Among the crowd of onlookers, the foreign tourists exclaimed in low voices. Some timid female tourists had already turned their heads and couldn’t bear to look any further, while the bold and curious male tourists quietly picked up their cameras or mobile phones and captured this dark living sacrifice. Record it and use it as a talking point to show off to others after returning home.

As for the Christians among the tourists, seeing the beheading of the black goat, which represents evil and the devil, their emotions were more complicated.

In South Asia, there are not many gods who need living sacrifices, and the goddess Kali is the most famous one.

Moreover, it is because of the progress of the times that black goats are used for live sacrifices. The traditional sacrifice to the goddess Kali requires the use of living people. The death of one person can be exchanged for the goddess's pleasure for 1000 years.

In the backward villages in the mountains of northern South Asia, live sacrifices to Goddess Kali are still quietly carried out. The sacrifices generally choose boys aged 3 to 12 or young women who have just menstruated.

According to official records, from 2014 to 2016, there were 29 human sacrifices in 14 of the country's 51 states, most of which were sacrifices to the goddess Kali. In fact, the number may be far more than this.

In a big city like Calcutta, no one dares to use human sacrifices, so they can only use animal sacrifices, beheading a black goat every day in front of the Kali Temple, but... this can make Kali, who is used to human sacrifices Is Pear Goddess happy?

One of the two priests in charge of leading the sheep carefully took the head of the sheep and placed it on a tray, entered the temple, and placed it in front of a black stone statue representing the goddess Kali.

The believers scrambled to surround the sheep corpse, and the priest who was beheading just dipped his fingers in the warm blood of the sheep and dotted each believer's eyebrows one by one.

Gah-

Flocks of crows circled and landed on the eaves of the temple, staring at the bloody sheep carcass.

woof——

The wild dogs also rushed over when they smelled blood, hovering around the crowd, waiting for an opportunity to move.

The internal organs of the sheep carcass will be chopped up and fed to crows and wild dogs. This is their daily lunch, and of course they can't miss it today.

Sometimes the mutton is sold, and sometimes it is given to the poor, so the believers who have been blessed by the blood of the mutton have not left to see if they are lucky enough to get the mutton.

The outside of the temple was very lively because of the blood sacrifice, and no one noticed that she had quietly entered the temple.

She stood in front of the black stone statue, staring at the face of the stone statue, showing a meaningful smile.

After a while, she took out the empty wine glass, put it on the table, picked up the tray with the sheep's head, and poured the sheep's blood from the tray into the glass.

The wine glass turned red again, the difference was that this time there was no red wine in it.

She picked up the wine glass and drank the still warm sheep's blood in one gulp.

Due to some differences of opinion between her and her friend, in order not to hurt her peace, she made an agreement with her friend that as long as the friend did not fail, she would not make a move.

Now the friend is likely to be defeated and dead, so the agreement not to drink blood is invalid.

The goat's blood flowed into her stomach. It was delicious, but it didn't satisfy her, it seemed to awaken her hunger and thirst.

She thirsted for blood, real blood, human blood.

She had been thirsty for millennia, and it was time to feast on the sacrifice.

When she walked out of the temple, the believers who got the mutton and the tourists who had finished watching the fun were leaving one after another, and the rain washed the blood of the sheep in all directions.

The priest in charge of the beheading noticed her, raised his bloody finger and walked towards her, motioning for her to take off the silk scarf wrapped around her forehead, as if she wanted to inject sheep's blood between her eyebrows.

"Do not."

She waved her hand and walked away without looking back.

A priest is not qualified to order bindi for her.

She left the Kali Temple and instead of going back to find the taxi driver, she walked to a nearby place.

Filled with the smell of corpses, wandering where the dead - the dying home.

The Dying Home, founded by Mother Teresa many years ago, takes care of those seriously ill patients who cannot be cured, cannot be cured, or cannot be cured, or some old people who cannot take care of themselves, or young people who are seriously injured, and give them A shelter where they can die with dignity.

Many foreigners do volunteer work in the home of the dying. There are people who have lived in Calcutta for a long time, and there are people who pass by here for a short trip. There are men and women. Most of them should be kind-hearted and want to dedicate their love and strength. Some people worked as volunteers in the dying home for a few days just to post photos in Moments to show off, and hang the label of "caring" in front of their friends.

The torrential rain continued and the sky was gloomy. An old foreign man in charge of the gate saw her, recognized her, and nodded politely to her. After all, she provided a lot of financial support to the Dying Home.

In fact, he misunderstood that the money was not hers, but her friend's. Her friend earned a lot of money from a foreign country, and she distributed it according to her friend's will. It is also a considerable donation.

Therefore, she can come and go freely in the dying house, and no one will stop her.

She walked into the dimly lit room, and immediately smelled a strong and familiar smell—the smell of death.

Dozens of dying people lay in rows of simple single beds, and the slight humming sounded from time to time, as if trying to prove that they were still alive.

The volunteers may have just washed their bodies, applied skin care lotion, and fed them bananas, and now they have gone to rest and eat. After all, it is lunch time, and the volunteers also have to eat and rest.

Their bodies reeked of cheap skin care lotion, but they still couldn't hide the deep dead air.

A teenage half-grown boy was severely burned. The wound was unable to scab over in the humid weather. Flies crawled around the wound.He opened his eyes and glanced at her, falling into a semi-comatose state again.

An old man in his 70s and [-]s has skinny limbs, only his stomach is swollen and swollen, and every time he breathes, a foul smell gushes out of his body.He saw her, as if seeing something extremely terrifying, and his throat gurgled in horror.

An older old man had dry and wrinkled skin all over his body, like a newspaper that had been severely crumpled and unfolded, and was covered with dark spots, and the skin on his hands and feet was cracked every inch of it.When he saw her, he gave her a relieved smile as if he saw a savior.

She wandered around the room. Compared with the last time she came, there were more and less patients here, and there were many new faces. There were often only one in a hundred patients who could get out of here alive.

The patients who have fallen here are all of the low caste without exception, and they are no different from livestock in her eyes.

(End of this chapter)