" The light from the trees pulsed in time to the light in the clouds. I wasn’t sure where our property ended in the trees or who owned the land connected to ours. I imagined a neighbor could be having a bonfire. Three in the morning was an odd time to toast s’mores but who was I to judge? It was probably a group of teenagers who’d found a place to gather away from adults so they could do who knows what. As long as they didn’t burn down the woods I didn’t care. The "

― C.V. Hunt , Ritualistic Human Sacrifice