It was the dead of night, as a group of church members stood in the preachers home, all in a room they have to come to claim as there council room. The house was old, having been there for quite some time, and it was Victorian themed. With huge chandeliers, huge fireplaces, yet small closets. In the council room, six members sat at a table. Faces were pale, and beaded with cold sweat. Knuckles were white, from clenched fist. Eyes were darting at any creak or unexpected sound. The time was near. The time to choose a Sacrifice. A woman, with brown hair that was laced with a few whites, looked at the preacher. Swallowing a lump in her throat, she opened her mouth hesitantly before saying, "....W-..Why do we have to d-do this? Th-This is sick...Do we even know what he d-does to our sacrifices? U-Ugh....I get sick just thinking of it...." Whimpered he middle aged woman, her face turning a shade of green. "Don't be a fool!" A bald man stated, sitting a cross from her. His thick eyebrows that resembled gray caterpillars, were furrowed, angry that she even said such a thing. "Why do we do this? Why do we do this?! To protect our town! Do you want him to come down and kill us all?! By sending a pure maiden, we are saving our town for the next two decades! We need to do this." Snarled the old man, crossing his arms over his chest. "I don't believe I was asking you, Richard! I was talking to the Preacher. And why do our sacrifices only last for twenty years? Remember our last sacrifice? Amber? She was only twenty two when we sent her...She should still be alive! She would only be forty two, what happened to her?!" "There's no reason to ask what happened, Caroline. You should know what that monster does....He's a vile, and impure creature from the gates of Hell. But we can't do anything...In order to protect our town, we must send someone....Please Preacher, who should we send now?" Asked a woman with literally perfect ray hair. It was cut strictly at her shoulders. Not one split end, or fly away. It was literally perfect. Her eyes were a bright blue color, and she stared at the preacher, wondering who he was going to pick. "...I offer my grand daughter, her name is Mila. I believe she is pure." "Ha, I even heard stories about your whore of a grand daughter." Richard growled, earning a piercing glare from the old woman with perfect hair.