The cool air drifting through the limousine's window was invigorating. Hillary found herself unable to contain her eagerness.
"Just think, Bill. The first female President of the United States", she said, pronouncing the words slowly and precisely. "It's really going to happen."
"Uh-huh", replied Bill lazily, intent on eating the takeout barbecue sandwich resting in the styrafoam container on his lap. He had just finished piling coleslaw on top of the juicy pulled pork, and his mouth was watering in anticipation.
Just as he prepared to sink his teeth in, the limo slowed to a halt, and Hillary opened the door. "Alright, honey. I'll see you in an hour", she said as she stepped out of the car. Bill's reply was rendered unintelligible by the large bits of sandwich in his mouth; she smiled, said goodbye and closed the door.
Slowly, she approached a nondescript doorway about halfway down the alley, knowing that this would be the last time. Everything was falling into place - after tonight, her dream would finally become a certainty.
The door opened slowly, and she was greeted by a man cloaked in a black robe. "We've been expecting you. Come in", he said in a deep baritone. She proceeded down the hallway, the sound of chanting becoming more and more audible as she approached the chamber.
As she entered the room, Hillary glanced around, unable to see much in the dim candlelight. Her eyes quickly adjusted, and she noticed the chalice a few feet to her right. She picked it up and positioned it by the head of the table.
The girl was fairly young, perhaps fifteen or sixteen. She had black hair and olive skin, and was just tall enough to lay out on the table without stretching much. She was restrained with leather straps, and had a rubber gag in her mouth. She was sweating with fear, her chest heaving up and down uncontrollably and the air loudly escaping her nostrils.
One of the robed chanters began to turn a crank positioned on the wall, which caused the table to recline until it was standing vertically on its head. The girl was hanging upside down, and while she tried with all of her strength to snap the restraints, they held their position.
Hillary turned around and looked her in the eye as she held up the knife. The girls eyes shot wide open, a look of terror engulfing her face. Her muffled screams could be heard through the gag, even over the chanting that had grown harmonically richer and more rapid in tempo.
Hillary held the knife up to her throat. The girl was quivering with fear. Hillary watched as a tear rolled down the girl's inverted forehead. In one slow, deliberate stroke, Hillary drew the knife across her throat. The girl's last attempts to scream forced her dying breath through the cut, causing a gargling sound as air mixed with the blood pouring out into the chalice below.
As the girl's movements became weak and erratic, and Hillary watched the last bit of life leave her eyes. She tapped her foot as she patiently waited for the blood to stop flowing. After the chalice was filled, and she allowed the remaining blood to run through the grated floor into the drain below. She raised the chalice as the monks incanted their blessing for the sacrifice. "Hail Satan", she exclaimed solemnly, and proceeded to take a long, deep drink. The blood was hot and thick down the back of her throat. She took another gulp, and then another.
"Just think", she thought to herself. "The first female President of the United States".