I try to console them. I tell them everything will be alright. Their eyes go wide with fear as I find the spot between the ribs and push the blade in. They always cry and it makes me a little sad. they do not yet understand. I watch the blood as it flows down their naked legs and into the large basin I have placed below their suspended form. Ch'thon calls for every drop.
To ensure I get it all, I begin by making shallow cuts. First the legs. Then the torso. And lastly the arms. Slowly their struggle rescinds and they accept their fate. At last they find understanding.
The blood is not theirs. They are only holding it for another. And now it must be returned. To Ch'thon, to whom it rightly belongs. At last their fear is peeled away and they are happy to give the blood freely.
Devoted Servant of Ch'thon, Bellor Hejnd