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The sound of the door slamming as they leave me alone once again brings my mind back to the panic of the unknown. What are they about to make me do? Will I get the chance to see Iris? Or King? Is there any possibility he could’ve made it through this? Dread and sadness have me feeling overwhelmed, like that’s too much to hope for… but if there’s anyone in the world who can pull off some crazy shit and crawl out of the ashes, it’s fucking Kingston Banks.
There are four of them standing around me before they blind me with a hood over my face and move me out of the building they’re holding me in. I manage to catch a quick look at the two newcomers, noting they’re dressed more like bikers than members of the society. It further solidifies the proof that the reach of The Brotherhood of Darkness is endless. Our footsteps echo along the way, never shifting from the same sound as the hard concrete floor in the room they had me in. Even the twenty stairs upward had the same repetitive noise bouncing off the nearby walls. I take in all the information and memorize it so I can use it all against them when they give me the chance.
Once we’re about two hundred feet away from the moment the wind first blew over my skin, they stop walking. I’m shoved to the ground, my knees hitting hard dirt before the hood is yanked from my head. The constant disrespect has me even more determined to force them all to pay for everything they’ve done. The bikers have disappeared, but there are more masked and robed fuckers staring me down.
The desire to be in this fucking society is so far gone from my thoughts… and I’m not even dreading the conversation I’ll have with my father when I tell him to take this society and shove it up his pampered, puckered ass.If I get a chance to have that conversation.
“Start digging, worthless pledge.” The same voice irritates me once again as a shovel is thrown down beside me. Worthless my ass and I’m so far past pledge at this point, these fuckstains should be kissing my ass for the next twenty goddamn years. Besides, I don’t want one of their corny robes anymore. We’re well past that bullshit.
I get to my feet, rising with the pure purpose of shoveling a mass grave for all of these fuckers. They circle me with torches and light up the area, their presence fueling me with strength for each shovel full of dirt I toss. The hard metal restraints pinch and restrict my wrists from digging like I normally would, making this harder than it should be, but it doesn’t stop me from planning my revenge and derailing whatever these people have planned.
Four of them should fit in the hole I plan to dig, but I may be able to cram some more if needed. Miraculously, adrenaline and anger give me the energy I require to dig a hole that’s about six feet deep and three feet wide. When I finish… they stand around me with the same inconspicuous features and traits as they have had this entire time.
“Go get the body. He’s the same size as this one here, so there’s plenty of room for the both of them. We can just bury this one alive next to his best friend.” The words spike an all new level of survival and determination from me even though they’re speaking of fetching the body of my dead best friend. My vision is momentarily blinded by a new bout of rage. To even speak of King so flippantly, has me dreaming of breaking their bones in return, relishing in their screams of agony.
The guy who seems to be leading this fucked up show of power points a pistol down at me. “You’re going to stay right where you are.” He jabs the gun in my direction, not at all seeming like it’s a usual act of his. It’s one thing I can thank mine and King’s fathers for… the countless hours spent at the range together. My chest feels hollow with the thought. King and I were partners in most things in life and knowing we’ll never do anything like it again cripples me inside.
What I wouldn’t give to yank each one of their hoods off their faces and reveal who they are. Just knowing that I’ll have no idea who’s behind the society if I ever get out of here eats at me. I have to figure out at least one of them, so I can plan my revenge. And how fucking amazing that moment will be.
“Nah. I did what you fucking ordered me to do. Now it’s my turn to talk.” I lift myself out of the hole and watch them all take a step back. I’m angry, dirty, and broken inside with grief. The smartest thing they can do is give me space because all I can think of is breaking their necks.
If anyone had pulled a stunt like that on us, we would’ve sent a bullet straight through their idiot head for having the audacity to disobey us. The fact this guy did not use the gun on me isn’t lost and if I was a guessing guy… I’d bet he has his own orders to keep me alive. Maybe rough me up a lot… but keep me alive in the end.
To test that theory, I start walking away from them with a new defiance. If they plan to bury me next to King in the hole I dug… they’re going to have to drag my dead body to it. Fuck these guys and all of their secrets and weird fucking rituals. I’m out… one way or another.
“One more step… and I’ll be burying your little whore with you.” I freeze mid-stride, his words raking right through me. I can handle literally anything they throw my way, except them hurting her and making me watch. “I wonder if she’ll screamdown there like she did when I tied her up and fucked her.” Absolute insanity floods my mind as I attempt to rationalize what he’s saying. Why would the society have me avenging all of those who have hurt her, only to do it themselves. It’s all one big fucked up circle of tests, and it seems like you never find the right answers.
My doubts aren’t solid enough to dismiss what he’s saying. Not to mention just the simple fact that he dared to speak the words has me running directly at him. Murderous adrenaline allows me to tackle the guy into the hole, both of us struggling for the gun. I’ve got the advantage of having full use of all of my senses, so I’m the one who gains the lead right away. I’m punching the fuck out of this guy’s face while commotion erupts behind me. I resort to choking him with my bare hands because the gun he once had is no longer in view.
I squeeze. Feeling the stress move through me, giving me enough strength to kill this man without a single ounce of guilt. He’s gripping and pulling on my shirt and even though I can hear the noise above me getting louder, I don’t stop until his head falls to the side. I needed to feel the life drain from him, to have at least one ounce of control and to remind them of who they’re dealing with. I will murder them all if given the chance.
His hood has shifted, but not enough that he’s exposed for me to see, so I reach to rip his mask off of his face just before I’m hauled to my feet. The immediate consequence of my attack is beaten into me. Punch after punch and hit after hit, I’m assaulted until the fight in me falls quiet.
My lifeless form is then tossed to the ground like trash. With one eye open, I peer over at the man I strangled and after a beat, I recognize some of his features. I know this guy. I’ve seen him at the university. He’s a sophomore just like we are. “Alex is dead,” someone confirms, speaking over the rest of the noise, validatingmy hope and making me feel a slight little win in this battle that seems to never end.
“Toss the kid in the hole. If the fucking superhero down there has the energy to get out before we bury him alive… he can live. Use that backhoe to move the dirt fast; we have too much shit to do tonight to be out here shoveling the shit around.” The finality of the orders above spurs a new burst of energy inside me, it’s purely adrenaline fueling me at this point. I crawl to my knees, leverage the edge of the hole I dug and stand, stepping on the bastard I strangled. Leaning against the side gives me a false sense of balance, but I won’t need much to get out of here once they give me some dirt. But first, I need to see for myself that thiskidthey’re talking about is King.
Part of me knows the odds are against us, but I just can’t help to think I’d sense his death harder than this. Right now I feel doubt, but maybe that’s because my mind won’t allow me to go there and accept the fact that he did die out there. The way I look at it, there’s only one way to find out.
The rumble of the backhoe moves closer, just like the sound of footsteps growing louder. “Dump him in the hole. Gonna close it up right after we drop him.”
There’s one big burly motherfucker standing over the open grave, dressed in darkness. Not a robe like the others, but a hoodie and mask, equally disguising his identity. I can see what appears to be a body thrown over his shoulder right before he tosses it into the hole at my feet.
I drop with an urgency, desperation clawing at the canvas tarp that’s been wrapped tightly around the body. There’s tape and rope securing it in place, ensuring that I’ll have an impossible time getting to who’s inside.
The first dump of dirt falls over me, weighing me down immediately, but it doesn’t stop me from ripping what I canapart. I reach a tiny piece of material at one of the ends and fall back on a pile of dirt in defeat.King’s shirt.
When the second heaping scoop of dirt falls over me, I consider lying beside my best friend and joining him in the next life. We’d wreak havoc on that life too and even though the thought is tempting, I remember my unspoken promise to both King and Iris. I have to find her before I can take the easy way out. I’m not ready to meet King in Hell without being able to say I did everything I could to keep Iris safe.
I stumble to the edge of the hole just before the third load is dumped. I’m buried to my knees, so it takes more effort than I really have to step on the other guy’s corpse and crawl out of the grave before any more dirt can be poured in. Rage consumes me to the point I’m not sure I can talk, but for what I have planned, speaking’s not necessary.
I dig deep. So fucking deep to the center of my core to pull myself together so I can go on the inevitable killing spree that will be taking place in the near future. I’ve got one knee out, moving slowly towards my purpose when I feel the stab of the needle in the side of my neck. Instant blurred numbness slides over my body as I fall limp and nearly slide back into the hole.
“We’re not through with you, yet ol’ buddy.” I can feel the rocks and dirt scraping over my skin for a few moments while the blackness of unconsciousness circles my mind. The pain on the outside is not at all replacing the pain on the inside or the hatred pumping through my veins. I may be slow to react, but I still have enough of my mind to remember the loathing ache and need for bloody revenge.
It's in this moment I decide I will not die this easily. I will not stop fighting until I’ve made sure every single person behind tonight pays for what they’ve done to us.
I will get our vengeance.
