The ninth night of the Black Sun ceremony was when the Jaguar Priest called for blood. K'in, a carver's son from the hill village of Ixim, had never seen the Great City until the raiders came—men with face paint like cracked earth and macaw-feather capes.
K'in looked back toward the dark line of the jungle. "It did," he said. "Just not mine." If you’d like a different direction—a chase story, a historical fantasy, or something completely unrelated to any existing film—let me know and I’d be glad to write an original piece for you. apocalypto 9xmovies
K'in was seventh in line.