POTLACH Feast

Potlach feasts are a custom among Pacific Northwest tribes. At these feasts, the host provides expensive food
and entertainment, ensuring that guests, especially village chiefs, cannot compete, thus
elevating their status.
Female slaves, particularly beautiful young girls, are often killed at these feasts for entertainment.
Burning them alive is the most common method, with knives and spears frequently used. The girls must actively participate in
the torture and death they are to endure. The chief's "daughter" is most often burned alive; in reality,
it is a female slave dressed as the chief's daughter who is tied to a stake and burned.
"This girl," he says to the man, "is my most beloved slave." He looks at the girl admiringly.
"Darling, let the guests see your beautiful body." Without hesitation, she removes her thin skirt,
revealing her slender and graceful petite body.
He boasts, "Like all my slaves, this girl loves me." He stares into the girl's eyes
; she smiles and nods. “Can you show us how much you love me in front of our guests?” he asked.
Without hesitation, the girl replied, “Yes, I can. I will give you my life.”
He feigned surprise, “But you are my slave, my little bird, you are mine. How can you
give me what already belongs to me?”
“No, my leader, you must take my life; let me offer it to you willingly, without protest,
without coercion, without crying, without struggle. Take my life, let our guests see
clearly! Give me that flint and steel, cut off my head!”
He feigned surprise, but it was clearly a carefully rehearsed performance. “Will you do that?
Will you stand here and let me kill you, without any coercion?”
“I will. Without coercion.” She raised her head defiantly, but her hands trembled slightly.
The onlookers watched in silence. He smiled and gently squeezed the girl’s hand. “Such a strong promise,
you must prove it with actions!” He nodded vigorously. “Do as you say.” He snapped his fingers,
and a guard handed him a sharp longsword. At his signal, the girl approached him, turned her back to him, and sat half-
sitting between his knees.
He held the sword in front of her, the tip pointing at her naked body; the girl stared at the sword for a moment,
then took his hands and guided the tip to her flat stomach, between her sternum and navel.
“Are you really sure?” he asked. “Don’t you want your hands bound? I’ll
plunge the sword deep into you; the wound will be fatal, and you’ll regret it.”
The girl glanced down at the dent of the blade in her smooth, soft skin, and didn’t think again.
“I’ve decided,” she said boldly, her voice trembling slightly. “I’ll hold your hands the whole time, letting you stab
me.”
He began to push the sword in, the pressure gradually increasing, slowly, giving her enough time to cry out or
struggle unconsciously. But the girl didn’t. She simply took a deep breath, held it, and let him increase the pressure.
Blood droplets appeared around the tip of the knife, the flow increasing, trickling down her lower abdomen. The girl began to tremble slightly;
he placed his empty hand on her shoulder and continued inserting the knife.
The blade was incredibly sharp, sliding in slowly and steadily. Blood pooled like a stream from the blade, but he ignored it
, continuing to push the knife deeper and deeper. The girl gasped and sighed, but didn't cry out
. Although her hand remained on his wrist, she didn't try to stop him.
Finally, the knife disappeared into her flesh. He stopped pushing, releasing the handle, leaving the knife inside her stomach
. He helped her stand up. The girl's beautiful eyes shone brightly as she swayed to her feet
, displaying the knife piercing her delicate flesh to everyone, letting the blood mercilessly flow from her body.
He asked in a reciting tone, “Who has ever possessed a slave girl like her? A girl who
brings glory to her master in this way?”
“I will bring you glory,” the girl groaned, “I will bring you glory with my death! This
is my most fervent wish!”
“Yes,” he nodded in agreement. He stood up, put his arms around the girl’s shoulders, and grasped the
knife again. Her head rested obediently against him, allowing him to slowly pull the knife out. Her body trembled, but she didn’t
utter a sound.
Blood gushed out even more violently, almost spraying onto the ground. The girl lowered her hands, reopening her wounds, letting the blood flow more
freely from her body.
As if rehearsed, her legs buckled, and with his help, she slowly knelt on the ground, her hands still stubbornly
reopening the wound on her abdomen. Once she was kneeling in the designated position and posture, he grasped her long black hair,
wrapped it twice around his left hand, and lifted her head proudly towards the crowd, carefully placing the blade against the right side of her
slender, beautiful neck. He paused, observing his opponent's leader to ensure no detail was missed.
Then, his blade sliced through the soft skin of her neck, making a casual cut.
A spray of blood gushed forth as the carotid artery ruptured, and her body shuddered, stiffening; her beautiful
eyes widened. He glanced at the splattering blood, switched the blade to the other side of her neck, and began cutting again.
The newly ruptured left carotid artery gushed forth a vibrant fountain of blood; the girl suddenly convulsed violently. His
next cut severed her throat, and the girl's eyes widened limply; a fourth cut entered from behind,
severing her neck between the cervical vertebrae. Her body fell forward, convulsing a few times, the last drops of blood
flowing from her torn neck. In the end, only her head remained in his hands, hanging from her long, black hair. The leader watched
as his servant approached, took the beautiful head, and presented it to the other leader. The other party accepted,
and the leader, who had finally gained status, leaned back and smiled smugly.

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