The Sheepherders

~5,000 B.C. 

He aimed his arrow towards his target. The deer raised it's head trying to listen for signs of danger only to be scared off by a child. The hunter hand had slipped and his arrow killed yet another innocent.

He heard her screams as he climbed down from the mountain. The child was on her knees as the arrow pertrude through her chest. There before the child stood the hunter who was shocked by the appearance of the child and not the blood that dripped from her chest. Every drop of blood that smeared the earth seemed to create new life. The hunter was bewildered by the magic that the child possessed.

He removed the arrow from her chest before carrying her in his arms. He apologized. "You were not my intended target but your death will save my village. Your people must have already foreseen your death and will probably curse us for what I am about to do. You must understand I have a wife who is about to give birth any day now. A young daughter who ploughs the barren land that we live on. This year harvest has not been kind hence the need for my travels into your domain".

"I am sorry", he said. 

The child could only listen to the man's beating heart as her's slowed down. They came to a stop and the man placed the child on a rock that was in the shape of a bed. She watched as the man remove his shirt and place it on the ground. He was holding a butcher's knife. That very knife cut off her legs and arms. She felt every limb, bone, and blood leave her body as her mind succumbed to the pain. Yet she did not cry only observed the horrendous act being done to her with cold eyes.

If only she had not intervened in the man's hunt maybe she would still be with the other children of the forest. The last thing she saw was the opening of her chest as he took out her heart and placed it in his bag. The man made sure to get her blood within his flask.

He also used the leaves of the trees and some salt to keep the meat preserved before placing it in his bag as he cut the child's stomach open to remove her intestines. The only thing the man could bury was the child's head and neck before he covered her with dirt. He was so tired that his own arms and legs felt numb. The sweat on his forehead, arms, and chest reminded him of his cruel act as the sun began to set.

He picked up his shirt and placed his tools in the bag as he began to walk away from the scene of the crime. He found a stream nearby where he decided to take a bath. The stream washed away the blood off his body, cleansing his clothes of the stench.

From that day on, the man walked through the forest facing horrendous challenges that seemed to wish for his death. The hunter prevailed through those five days before collapsing in his village. Everyone that saw him could not believe that this was the same man who left the village three moons prior.

His skin was practically melted off his body; worms and other insects were crawling in and out of him. He was nothing but skin and bones, the worst part of it all was, he was still breathing. His lips and forehead were blistered and cracky. They guessed it was due from the harsh cold even though winter had not come yet. The remaining men and women that had strength built a small fire to burn the man's body. They decided it best to lie to his wife about her husband's appearance as they began cooking the food that was brought forth.

The only thing the wife had left of her husband name was his flask that was filled with blood and the remaining tools from his hunt. Unbeknowest to them all the food they ate, had now cursed them, just like the man who lived with worms.