At midnight they met, at the old crossroads where the standing stones had once been. Though they were gone, the old altar stone remained, half grown over and covered in lichen, but still serviceable. Two score of them there were, clad in black robes, the hoods pulled low over their heads to hide their identities, even from each other. Each carried a black candle, a flickering flame and smoke, smelling strongly of incense.

The leader of cult was distinguished only by the gold stitching on his hood, forming out mystical runes. He stood at head of the altar, the magic scepter in his hand. “Bring forth the sacrifice!” He commanded in a booming, imperious voice.

The sacrifice was dragged forward by two of the burlier, robed and hooded figures. She’d been procured earlier that evening, a maiden of some 18 summers, as yet a virgin, still clad in the white nightshirt she’d been wearing when stolen from her bed, now torn from her struggles and wet with the dew of the late night fields she had been dragged through.

The maiden shook her head, her brown locks swinging back and forth, green eyes wide with fright. A low cry escaped the strip of cloth bound between her teeth while her hands struggled against the cord binding them behind her back. Her struggles were in vain as she was led to the altar, struggling all the way.

She was forced over the stone altar, worn smooth by the backs of many other sacrifices. Her hands were untied, but four of the cultists held her hands and feet, keeping her from getting up, while more cords were brought up. They were tied to her limps and then to four stakes the hooded cultists had driven into the ground in line with the altar and the four cardinal directions.

To the maiden’s dismay, her night clothes were torn off, leaving her naked. Goosebumps grew on her pale bare skin in the cool night air. Several cultists stepped forward and began to daub the markings of sacrifice across her body, dipping their fingers in bowls of warm blood. Soon, she was marked crimson from head to toe.

The high priest approached now, raising his scepter high. He began to chant in the ancient tongue, the rest of the hooded figures around him joining in. On the altar, the sacrifice twisted and screamed. All could feel the growing power around, it crackled over the area, from person to person, nowhere stronger then on the ancient stone and its bound occupant.

With a final crescendo, the ritual reached its conclusion. There was a flash of light, blinding the cultists even through their thick hoods. When they’d blinked the spots out of their eyes and could see again, they found the altar bare, its naked occupant vanished. The ropes remained bound to the stakes, still tied in the knots, but the girl who had worn them was nowhere to be seen. A cheer went up from the cultists. Their sacrifice had been accepted and for another year, the cult would continue to prosper, its secret control guaranteed…

High above the gathering, in another place altogether, the maiden blinked to. She found herself lying in the same position, only now, instead of rough stone beneath her back, it was metal. The whole place was metal, gleaming in the light of strange, impossible devices. Then she saw them: the ancient ones and she screamed. The figures, grey skinned, with large heads and faces featureless but for bare slit mouths and large, dark eyes, clad in red suits and holding strange devices, closed in around her...