A couple of them gave harsh laughs at that.

"This isn't happening," she whispered to herself, trying to stem her panic. "This isn't happening."

She gazed up at the glass dome above her. The moon had risen almost directly over an unusual etching in the center of the glass, depicting what looked like the face of a horned demon.

The shadow from the etching would slide directly over the altar, over her, when the moon hit it. It was a gnomon, a shadow maker, like that of a sundial.

The men seemed to await the shadow's advent, glancing up every so often. Await it for what?

As the moon continued to ascend, their chanting grew louder. She struggled harder, kicking her legs and thrashing her arms.

Lightning flashed across the sky. She vaguely noted that the more she strained to get free, the more frequently the bolts flickered overhead.

The largest of the men slid between her spread legs. When he removed his robe, comprehension hit her. She couldn't see below his waist but knew he was naked. "No, no, no…don't do this!"

The whites of his eyes were…flooded with black? He clamped her thighs, dragging her over rough stone to the edge of the altar.

She shrieked. All hell broke loose.

The men slapped their hands over their ears; the glass above them splintered into ominous forks through the etched demon's face—then the whole of it shattered, raining heavy shards all around the untouched altar.

A lightning bolt jagged down through the opening to spear her squarely in the chest, tossing the men away.

She screamed from the impact, arching with her fists clenched. The bolt was a physical force continuing on and on.

Unimaginable heat sizzled through her veins. Her two rings melted off her fingers, her earrings from her ears. Her necklace and watch were seared to liquid, dripping from her body.