by Stella Hart
“Election to our brotherhood is a golden ticket into a life beyond your wildest dreams, even with all your privileged backgrounds. Success becomes your birthright as soon as you are reborn into your new lives as members of our society. Anything you want is within your reach, and anything your enemy wants can be taken away from them at your whim. The brotherhood will see to your every need. You will never want for anything, and in return, your loyalty will supersede everything else in your lives.”
The masked men on the other side of the altar stamped their feet and cheered at this.
“Neophyte DuPont, step forward and kneel!” Tobias commanded, holding up the dagger.
One of the recruits shuffled farther forward and knelt, bowing his head. Tobias gently tapped him on the top of the head with the dagger, and then a red-robed man stepped forward with a golden goblet and held it out. The recruit took the goblet and gulped down its contents.
The process continued with the other recruits, one by one.
I almost laughed as I watched the surreal events unfold before me. It all seemed so… silly. Tacky. Like something from a cheesy thriller movie.
Then I remembered what Willa told me. First-level Crown and Dagger stuff was basically a joke, from what she’d said. The second level was harder to reach and far more secretive (she barely knew anything about it), and the third level was so clandestine that she knew absolutely nothing about it. Even her brothers, who’d apparently made it to the second level, had zero idea of what the third level entailed. They hadn’t made it that far and never would.
Despite that, I already had at least a vague idea of the different levels from what I’d seen tonight. Brand new recruits wore brown robes during initiation, and first-level members wore navy blue (as evidenced by the guard outside the door complaining about wanting to reach the second level so he didn’t get scut-work anymore). From that, I could assume that the red-robed men were in the second level of the brotherhood, and black was reserved for the highest level.
Tobias King was the only one wearing black here, so this was definitely a lower-level event, designed to appeal to the new recruits and younger members. Not counting Tobias, who obviously had to be here to oversee the event, the third-level members weren’t here and probably had far better things to do with their time.
A shiver ran through me as I imagined what those things might be.
“Now,” Tobias called out in a booming voice when the last recruit had finished whatever was in his goblet. “Enjoy the fruits of your success!”
The gong sounded again, and the drumbeats immediately started back up along with loud music. Whoops and cheers echoed throughout the grotto.
I settled further down into my hiding spot and pulled out my cell phone to surreptitiously film what was happening. Now that the silly dagger ritual was out of the way, the party seemed to be beginning.
Beautiful women were slinking out from the dark little doorways on the edges of the main chamber, holding trays of drinks along with fat lines of white powder. Some were dressed in gauzy white Grecian-style dresses, others were topless with black thongs and golden spray-paint on every bare inch of their skin, and others were simply stark naked save for black collars around their necks.
“Holy shit,” I heard one of the recruits mutter. His voice was slurring slightly; whatever was in the goblets must’ve been potent.
Within the next twenty minutes, a scene I could only describe as a wild orgy began to take place. Women were on their hands and knees with masked men filling them rough and hard, grunting and groaning. Others were on their knees with their hands bound behind them, sucking cocks and moaning in pleasure as someone else stroked their pussies. The new recruits all shared expressions which suggested their dreams had come true as they joined in.
It was rough, raw, Bacchanal.
I was frozen with a mixture of fear and excitement as I took it all in, my pulse pounding hard and fast. I pictured myself as one of those women, being used and abused, taken in every hole for the pleasure of rich men. It made me scared, the thrilling kind of scared that got me all hot and bothered. My chest rose and fell, heat slipping down my neck, and my nipples tightened as the fiery desire moved across my stomach and pooled between my legs.
I let out an involuntary squeak of surprise as I saw a red-robed man slap a woman’s tanned, oiled ass before he spread her cheeks wide and shoved himself inside. Right in her ass, no warning given. She let out a guttural moan, her head falling forward as the man roughly violated her tightest hole. Then she began to moan and gasp with bliss, succumbing to the heady mixture of pain and pleasure.
I clapped a hand over my mouth. Luckily the party was so loud that no one seemed to have heard my squeak. Thank god. I looked around anyway, just to make sure.
Along one wall of the grotto, a few red-robed men stood watching the wild sex, sipping at goblets instead of joining in. I couldn’t see their faces, seeing as the masks covered everything, but I got the impression they were bored. They’d probably participated in this sort of activity many times, and now, what once seemed wild and dangerous had turned old and stale.
One of them suddenly turned his head slightly to the left. There was something familiar about the way he held himself.
I bit my lip and ducked down lower, hoping he hadn’t spotted me in the darkness behind the gravestone. Peeking out a moment later, I saw that he was watching the orgy again. False alarm. I was safe.
Still, I needed to think about getting out of here before it was too late. As long as I stayed in the shadows, I could slip out amongst all this primal writhing and moaning easily enough. Or so I hoped.
Sticking as closely to the cold stone wall as I possibly could, I found my way back to the tunnel and slid into the blackness beyond. Then I dashed back up the winding path, dizzy and buzzing from everything I’d just witnessed.
When I realized I was nearing the doorway which led back into the above-ground section of the tomb, I halted and got down on my hands and knees before slowly inching my way forward. The guard would probably still be out here, so I would have to figure out where he was, then dash around him to the back door and fly through the cemetery as fast as possible to evade him.
He wasn’t right at the entrance, thank god. Neither was anyone else. I guess the guy who promised to replace him never bothered to show up. It really was my lucky night.
I poked my head out slowly, then breathed a sigh of relief when I saw the guard passed out against a wall, snoring loudly with his now-extinguished torch across his lap. Obviously, guard duty in the tomb was just as boring and shitty as he claimed earlier. No wonder his friend didn’t bother coming to help.
I sneaked past him on my tiptoes, then slipped out the back entrance and whipped away across the graveyard, refusing to look back. When I reached the gate, my pulse finally eased back to normal, and I smiled and quietly cheered at myself for surviving the strange encounter.
I did it. I actually sneaked into a Crown and Dagger party and got away with it.
Granted, it was just a first-level event, but still, the things I saw proved that it wasn’t just any old secret society. These guys did some seriously depraved stuff down in that lair. Drugs, debauchery, voyeurism.
I couldn’t wait to get started on my paper.
With a spring in my step, I headed back up the hilly path toward the main part of the campus, humming an upbeat pop tune as I went. My phone vibrated gently in my robes a moment later. I pulled it out, assuming it was Greer or Willa asking me how it went.
The message was from an unknown number. I stopped in my tracks and fell silent as I read it.
I saw you.
3
Tatum
Early morning light filtered in through my bedroom window. I yawned and snuggled into my pillows, trying to get some rest, but sleep never came.
With a sigh, I checked the clock to see that it was half past seven. Despite my efforts, I hadn’t slept a wink since I returned home just before midnight.
I kept thinking about that text I got, kept freaking out over it. At the same time, the idea of replying to it freaked me out even more. I knew it was probably just Greer or Willa playing a prank and texting me from someone else’s phone, seeing as they knew exactly what I’d been up to last night, but a tiny part of me wondered if it was actually a guy from the party.
What if someone had actually seen me? Was I in trouble? Or did one of the Crown and Dagger guys simply have a weird sense of humor and think it would be funny to text me? That raised even more questions: who was it, and how did he know me and my phone number?
My eyes drifted over to my cell. It sat on my bedside table, seemingly staring at me accusingly. I picked it up.
Trying to put the weird text out of my mind, I dialed my mother’s number, hoping for a chat. She always got up early on Saturdays, so I knew she’d be around. The phone rang endlessly, though, and after a few minutes I gave up, dejected.
My parents had barely spoken to me since I arrived at Roden a few months back. It was so strange. I knew they were busy with work (seeing as Dad’s formerly-struggling surveying business had started to pick up several months ago) but surely they still had time to return my phone calls. They hardly ever did, though. They hadn’t been to visit me on campus either, even though it was only a half-hour drive from their house.
Their new house.
Ever since the business started taking off, they’d been splashing out and buying themselves all the things they’d never been able to afford before now. Their decrepit rental bungalow had been replaced by a bigger house in a nicer neighborhood, and they’d treated themselves to a new car as well. On top of the thriving business, they also had more disposable income purely because they no longer had to care for me anymore. I was happy for them, but still, it would be nice to hear from them more than once a month.
I thought about calling one of my friends as a distraction, but I decided against it. Everyone liked to sleep in a little later on weekends, so expecting a conversation at half past seven was pushing it a bit.
Oh, screw it. I finally swallowed my fears and tackled the elephant in the room.
Who is this? I sent to the unknown number from last night.
My phone pinged with a reply almost right away. I could be your worst nightmare or your most pleasurable dream. I’ll let you decide.
My shoulders slumped with relief. Considering the totally over-the-top reply, it was obviously just a stupid prank. All this time, I’d been freaking myself out over nothing.
I tapped out a sarcastic response. Very funny. Is that supposed to scare me?
Another reply came through immediately. You’d like it if it did, wouldn’t you? You like being scared. Turns you on, doesn’t it?
I stiffened. Perhaps this wasn’t a prank after all. Or if it was, the person had quite a sick sense of humor. Hands shaking slightly, I sent another text. I don’t know what you’re talking about.
Him: Yes you do. I know you, Tatum Marris. I know everything about you.
Me: So you’re a stalker. Should I call the police?
Him: Not a stalker. Just an interested party.
Me: Interested? I leaned back on my bed, curling up against the thick, ruffled pillows. Suddenly, I wasn’t so worried. More curious than anything else. Who was this guy, and what exactly did he want?
Him: Yes. You’re interested in me, too.
Me: I don’t even know who you are….
His reply took a little longer this time. But you were there last night. You watched us. You loved us. Admit it.
I swallowed hard. So he had seen me at the party after all.
Me: It made me curious. That’s all I’ll admit.
Him: Well, in the words of Bachman, you ain’t seen nothing yet. But you’ll find out.
My curiosity was fully piqued now. I kept the exchange going, even though I was quite certain that the person at the other end was just a bored guy looking to assert his dominance by trying to creep me out.
What will I find out? I asked.
Him: What we really do. Last night was nothing. Just a few party tricks to get the new recruits interested. It’s nothing like our real world.
A smile played on my lips. Is that why it was so easy for me to get in? Your security is seriously lacking.
Him: You really think you’re the first person to sneak into a Tap Week party at the Tomb? We practically let people do it, just to get their little thrills and make them think they know what we’re really about. Everyone knew you were there, not just me. You weren’t as careful as you think. How was it sitting behind that gravestone, anyway? Comfortable?
My smile faded. I felt completely naked. Exposed. The whole time I’d been hiding in that grotto, the members knew. Every single one of them. I wasn’t that special for sneaking in after all… they let me do it.
No wonder so many rumors flourished about the society. They came from other people who’d sneaked in before me, years and years ago. The men at Crown and Dagger encouraged it, found it amusing to shock us and let the wild stories spread. The debauched parties, the drugs, the orgies… that was a side of their society that they wanted people to talk about. To distract from something else, perhaps.
That made me very suspicious about what they could be hiding behind all that.
I bet I’m the first person to film it, I finally shot back. In all my online searches about you guys, I’ve never seen a single video of the Tap Week party. But I have one now.
Him: Sure about that, sweetheart?
With a frown, I exited the text messages and went into my phone gallery. The video was gone. Undeterred, I checked the cloud storage app, because I knew my phone occasionally bugged out and deleted stuff by itself.
When the app loaded, I started to worry again. The video wasn’t there. The only way for it to be gone from the cloud was if someone accessed my account and manually deleted it. I certainly hadn’t done it.
I texted the guy back, my hands shaking with a mixture of fury and fear. You hacked my stuff?
Him: You came into our world, and now we’ve come into yours. Why does that surprise you? It’s what you wanted, isn’t it?
Me: I might’ve wanted a look in, but I didn’t ask for my phone to be hacked!
Him: You’ve been asking for that and much more for a long, long time. You’re heading down a dangerous path, little girl.
As pissed as I was that someone hacked my phone and cloud storage app, I had to admit I was starting to get excited. Very excited. The danger, the darkness… it was all so terribly appealing to me. I felt wide awake despite the total lack of sleep, and sugary little thrills were trickling down my spine.
Maybe I like danger, I shot back boldly.
Him: Oh, I know you do. I bet you can’t wait to be tied up and on your knees for me, can you?
I smiled and leaned back, a smile playing on my lips. Flames were licking up between my legs, filling me with pleasurable warmth. I shouldn’t be turned on by a total stranger texting me things like this, but I couldn’t help the way my body responded.
Somehow I knew that the angrier I managed to make this guy, the darker and sexier his messages would get. I decided to try my hand at it.
Me: So this is how you Crown and Dagger guys get your kicks? Stalking girls and threatening to tie them up?
Him: Not a threat. A promise. And you’re the only one.
Me: Oh yeah? What makes me so special?
Him: You’re a bad girl. A dirty girl.
I liked being called that. It made my nipples stiffen beneath my shirt. Biting back a grin, I replied. How do you know?
Him: Like I said, I know everything about you, Tatum. I know what you’ve done, and you need to be punished for it.
Me: Tell me how…
Him: I don’t need to tell you. You’re going to find out, and it’s going to hurt. But you deserve every ounce of pain. I know what you are at your core. You’re an evil little slut, and you need to be punished. You need to be destro
yed.
The messages were getting a little too dark for my liking now. I needed to be destroyed? What was that about? It wasn’t hot. It was just plain creepy.
Me: Um, I think you’re taking it a little far now, dude…
Him: What, you thought this was some sort of joke? I’m not laughing, little whore. I know exactly what you fucking did, and I’m gonna make you pay. 3/17/17. You remember, don’t you?
I turned my phone off and threw it to the end of the bed, my entire body shaking as chills raced through me. That date at the end of the message… oh, god. Whoever was texting me, he knew about what I did in March last year. The thing I refused to let myself think about anymore. The thing everyone else swore wasn’t my fault.
The guy on the phone obviously didn’t agree, and he wasn’t just some bored frat guy getting his kicks by sexting random girls either. He hated me. He wanted to hurt me. Worst of all, he knew everything about me. He could even get into my most private possessions whenever he wanted. He’d already shown me that by hacking my phone.
So what else could he do?
What else would he do?
I jumped up and walked over to my window, peeking out the dove-gray curtains as if I actually expected to see a person in a black trench coat with a pair of binoculars peering up at me. Of course, there was no one there except an early-morning jogger powering through the courtyard and a gardener sweeping up red and yellow leaves.
My eyes fell on an unfamiliar black SUV parked in the lot on the right of the courtyard. I squinted, trying to get a better look. The parking spot was for Bamford students only, and I’d never seen anyone here with that sort of car before.
I figured it could be new, seeing as Roden students were frequently gifted brand new cars and other such things by their wealthy parents, but as soon as I made it obvious I was looking by pulling the curtains further back, the SUV started up and squealed out of the parking lot.
Trembling, I went and sat down on the bed. Just a coincidence, I told myself. A student owns that car, and they were racing out to grab some coffee and bagels.
