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I look toward the only exit, the same door the men came in from, but they’re guarded by more of those ruler wielding bastards. One I can take, maybe two, but definitely not four. That’s not even counting any of the novices who might look for extra points by helping to stop me.
My attention comes back to Mateo but now he stands in front of the first guy, leaving for last. His crazy eyes are trained on me as though he knows that I’m planning to escape the first chance I get.
He shakes his head slowly, his jaw clenched hard as one of the red masked men hands him the handle of a rod. He breaks eye contact with me to roughly pull the guy’s left arm forward. As though he enjoys this, he brandishes the bright orange glow of the burning rod, and slowly,torturouslyslow, he presses the hot rod down onto the guy’s arm.
His scream is loud, but not loud enough to block out the sound of his skin sizzling beneath the burning metal as two more monks hold him steady. When the rod cools, Mateo rips it away, eliciting yet another scream from the guy as he drops to the floor like a sack of bricks.
One-by-one, Mateo moves down the line, burning the Calavera Society emblem into the arms of each novice, spending a little extra time on Chad. The scent of burning skin, fear, sweat and vomit permeates the room, and just as I’ve decided to fight my way out of here, Mateo stops before me.
“What a shame. There’s no more left.” He says humorously as he gestures to the empty pot, “It’s too bad, I’ve been wanting to scar up your pretty, pretty skin.”
With thatBuffalo Billcomment, he turns and opens the doors, “Everyone out! You will be dressed and presented to the Calavera Society for the ceremony in one hour.”
Everyone begins to file out, but once I’m at the door, Mateo holds me back.
“Sorry,carnalbut you’ll have to wait here since you’re the prez’suntouchable liege.” He says it mockingly, but I can tell it's directed at Roberto rather than me.
He hands me what looks like a sacrificial robe, the white material resembles Scrooge’s nightshirt.
I throw it to against the wall before stepping into Mateo’s space, “What the fuck is with the show? I already agreed to do this shit.”
“Yeah, that’s right. You agreed to this so do what you’re told to the very last detail or it’s that pretty, little friend of yours that’s going to take the heat.”
“Why? Why are you doing this?” I shove him back, but he doesn’t fight me.
“Me? No, chamaco, you got it wrong. Roberto has been planning this shit. You’re just another one of his puppets. Play the game right and she might just win.”
He walks over to the robe and snatches it up, fisting it hard at his side, “I know you don’t believe me, but none of this was part of anyone’s plan, least of all Rey’s.”
He turns to leave, but I stop him, “Why are you helping? What is Val to you, cause from what I could tell, you guys hated her since day one. What changed?”
With his hand on the handle of the door, Mateo turns back, sliding his mask back in place, “Ain’t shit changed, I just have my own plans. Be thankful you at least have me on your side.”
With that and leaves me alone, the doors slamming closed behind him.
He’s right, I did agree to do this, to follow along and do whatever it takes to help Val. But that doesn’t mean I’m okay with everything I’ve witnessed, not to mention the thick atmosphere that raises the hair on your skin. It’s evil and an all-consuming sense of damnation—there are no words that can adequately describe the feeling I’ve had since shaking hands with Roberto.
But this is for Val. All I have to do is get through tonight and then I’ll be able to get her out of here. We may not be able to go back home, but I know if I called Rico and Leroy, they’d help us get as far away as we can. With that in mind, I take a deep breath and close my eyes, letting visions of Val flood my mind until the wild beating of my heart settles.
After what feels like hours, the robed men return and escort me out and I feel confident in my choice. I honestly believe I’ll be able to get Val out of here, I just have to get through this night.
With four men—two in front and two behind me—we walk through tunnels until we reach a narrow path that leads to a red curtain. We all come to a stop, as though this has all been planned out. I wait impatiently, eyeing the masked men around me. They’re all shorter than me, giving me at least an inch more to look past them and toward the curtain.
I can hear muffled talking as though people are speaking over one another. But then I hear her voice and all logic seems to flee as I listen to her voice filled with false bravado.
“Humanity spoke and La Muerte answered. I am honored to prove my worth to the men of the Calavera Society.”
Without thinking, I push forward, shoving past the men in front of me.
“Va—” My yell is cut off when someone sucker punches me in the temple, sending stars across my eyes. My legs buckle under me, but I’m caught by two sets of arms.So much for being untouchable,I think just as my arms are restrained. I blink some clarity into my sight just as searing hot pain radiates in my left forearm.
Even to my own ears, my voice sounds like an animalistic roar, but it’s Val’s scream that has me fighting off the cunts holding me. All I can think of is that someone is hurting her, burning her as they’re doing to me.
Finding my feet, I rip my arms free, shredding my melted skin in the process before swinging my elbow back and smashing someone’s nose. I move as fast as I can, ignoring the white-hot pain in my arm and the pounding in my head as I shove one robed man into another. I dodge a swing as they fall to the floor in a mess of masks and robes.
I can hear a commotion somewhere, Val screaming above the shouts of men. I try to run to her, but the bastard wielding the hot iron blocks my way.
“You’re dead, boy.” He sneers before swinging the rod in a downward arch.
