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Glancing over my shoulder, I saw Dante was still sitting in his parking space, watching me. He gave me two thumbs-up, making me smile. I turned back to the door, lifted my hand, and pressed the doorbell. I heard it ring only once before the double doors suddenly opened outward. I took a hasty step back and stared at the darkened entryway void of people. Another look at Dante showed he was no longer giving me any thumbs-up, and his expression looked wary. I saw him swallow, or did he gulp?
I stepped inside, and the doors began to automatically close. Just as they did, Dante jumped out of his truck. “I love you!” he shouted. “Don’t sign anythin’, country!”
The doors closed on his parting words with a thud.
“That man is dramatic as they come.” I shook my head. “God, I love him.”
With a smile, I turned and walked down the vacant hallway. There were a few rooms along the way, but the doors were closed. I made my way toward the opened doorway that led into what appeared to be a black room. I checked the watch Mr Collins had recently gifted me and saw it was a minute to seven. I was on time, so where was everyone? When I came to the doorway of the dark room, I realised that it wasn’t just the light that was switched off. All the windows had been covered, coating the room in a thick cloud of darkness. It looked more like a vampire’s crypt than a knitting and crocheting club.
I jumped when lights suddenly appeared on the floor. I quickly realised they were candles—not real candles but the cute fake ones. They made a lit-up pathway to a rather large table at the room’s centre. I saw sparks, then two large candles on each of the table’s end lit up, illuminating the area.
“He-Hello?” I tentatively stepped into the room. “It’s me … Ina O’Shea. Lilly invited me.”
“Step forward, Ina O’Shea, for your judgment.”
I jumped with fright when Lilly’s voice sounded. It seemed like it came from every direction. I hurried forward and didn’t stop until I reached the table just so I was as close to the candlelight as possible. I couldn’t shake off my apprehension anymore. I was absolutely bricking myself. I clutched my wool bag like it was a lifeline.
“I’m … I’m on time, Lilly.”
Movement seemed to come from all around me, and I sucked in a sharp breath when I saw them. There were six of them, and they all wore thick black cloaks with hoods hiding their features entirely. They ranged in height from leprechaun to fucking gigantic. One of the knitters was about six and a half feet, and I knew I was already terrified of the woman without having seen her face. Any woman that big who wielded knitting needles and crocheting hooks was a force to be reckoned with.
“Jesus, protect me.”
“Not even He can help ye in here, girlie girl.”
I spun around and gasped when I spotted the hooded figure standing behind the table I stood before. It had to have been a child. I swallowed when fair hands raised and tugged the hood down, revealing Lilly. At least, I thought it was Lilly. She was wearing makeup, there was a large red handprint covering her face, and I realised what it was. War makeup.
What the actual fuck?
“Ina O’Shea.” Her beady eyes appraised me. “Ye’ve been invited inside these sacred walls because potential is seen within you. Place the bag of promise on the table.”
What? I looked down and realised she meant my supply bag for my wools, needles, and hooks. Hurriedly, I placed the bag on the table. Lilly reached down and removed some pieces I had recently been working on. She inspected each one carefully, and I felt sweat drip down my back as I awaited her assessment. Wordlessly, she held two squares up in the air and oohs and aahs sounded from the other cloaked members.
“Potential,” Lilly repeated again with a firm nod. “Ina O’Shea, we would like to bestow the honour of formally invitin’ ye to become a knitter upon you. D’ye accept?”
I didn’t think I’d leave this building in anything other than a body bag if I said no.
“Yes.” I swallowed. “I graciously accept. Th-Thank you.”
Snaps filled the room, and a glance around showed the other members were clicking their fingers in unison. The trivial gesture felt rather ominous in the darkened room of terror.
“Your pledge is required to proceed with the first trial.”
How many fecking trials were there?
I felt myself shrink as Lilly handed over a piece of paper that looked centuries old. It reeked of teabags which told me someone used the old teabag trick to make the paper look aged. Probably to make the group seem as ancient and prestigious as its head member. I adjusted my glasses and peered down at the words before me, and I looked up with wide eyes when I’d finished. A dubious frown wrinkled Lilly’s forehead as she awaited me to speak. Startled by the expression, I glanced down at the old parchment paper and cleared my throat.
