Page 1 of Speak No Claim

Prologue

2 Years Prior

Onyx: The Ritual

STAGE ONE: THE REBIRTH

* * *

The Brotherhood called it a rebirth.

I called it being buried alive.

At that moment, I expected my fear to feel louder than it was, though all I felt was the silence all around me. Maybe it was the weight of the dirt packed over my body from head to toe that left me no room to panic without suffocating to death. Or perhaps it was just the way my breaths felt like they were my last, making it difficult to swallow, piling more soil down my throat.

Or maybe, just maybe…

I finally found some peace for the first time in my life.

I always preferred darkness. A dark life. It was what I thrived in, nurturing the worst parts of me. Darkness had always felt like home to me, especially the thoughts that should’ve scared me. The ones I buried so deep inside they sometimes whispered back.

And sometimes I listened.

Maybe it was the reason being buried alive felt more comforting than terrifying, and I took refuge in that. I should’ve started clawing my way out of that grave, but there I was, contemplating my own demise. This wasn’t the first time, and it wouldn’t be the last.

Although maybe, I just wanted to piss off my father, fully aware he was somewhere nearby. I could feel him, anxiously waiting for me to make my presence known to his beloved Brotherhood. It was all that ever mattered to him.

Or maybe the reality of it was, I just wanted him to think I was dying or, better yet, I had died…

The humiliation he’d endure was almost enough for me to stay right where I was, welcoming death with open arms. At least then, I wouldn’t be just another pawn in an endless game of who knew best. I was never one to be told what to do, yet there I was, willingly following his orders on the road to hell. I couldn’t leave my sister Deja, there wouldn’t be anyone to protect her.

Little by little, the air in my lungs thinned, and I found myself wondering how many men before me died this way.

How many of them chose death rather than handing over their lives?

Survival wasn’t enough for these men. The Brotherhood didn’t just want your loyalty. They demanded your soul. Once they owned that, there was nothing left of you to reclaim.

You were there’s now.

The end.

At first, I thought I was hallucinating, and this wasn’t actually happening on my eighteenth birthday. There were always rumors of what the initiation would be. Nobody warned you. Not your father. Not your mother. Not your grandparents.

No one.

It was every man for themselves, which was the sole purpose of this ritual. They required sacrifice, and tonight, they’d see exactly how much of yourself you’d be ready to bury to belong to a world where rules wouldn’t apply to you, only your oath…

Everything the Brotherhood stood for came at a cost, and they made sure you paid in full. By the end of the ritual, the only thing that mattered was the Blood Oath Brotherhood.

Everything else was meant to die there. The boys they buried never crawled out of this grave. We weren’t even men. We were just another demon, wearing his skin.

* * *

STAGE TWO: THE BURIAL

* * *

As soon as the chanting started above me, something inside me knew what I had to do next. After all, this was my legacy. It was in my blood, whether I wanted it there or not. It was who I was born to be, and there was no denying it. No fighting it either.