Read Poor Little Dead Girls Online
Authors: Lizzie Friend
“All right.” She smudged her tears across her cheek and raised her chin. For the first time in a long time, she felt strong. “I’m in. What do I have to do?”
Thayer picked up the champagne bottle and refilled Sadie’s glass. “You just have to drink this. We’ll do the rest.”
“I look like a bride at a cult wedding,” Sadie deadpanned. “With a serious virgin/whore fetish.”
She looked in the mirror again and sighed at her reflection. Thayer, Brett, and the three other Keating members had spent the last half hour prepping her for the induction ceremony, and she was having some issues with their artistic vision. Her hair hung in loose waves around her face, and she was dressed in a bikini so small she might as well have been naked. Over it she wore a flowing white robe that billowed around her as she walked. She had a ring of white flowers on her head.
Brett stood next to her, hands on her hips, but Sadie could tell she was holding back a laugh. “This ceremony is like a hundred years old, okay? And I’m sure this will come as a surprise to you, but a bunch of dudes made it up. Now just go with it.” She paused then, an odd look on her face. “It’s actually kind of … interesting.”
Thayer leaned in toward Sadie. “What she means is, it’s sexy. Besides, you should be happy they added the bikini in the fifties, because before that you would have been naked under there. You’re being reborn, you know?” She motioned to Sadie’s half-empty glass. “Now chug the rest so I can fill you up again.”
Thayer’s phone buzzed and tinny strands of music spilled from her purse. She met Sadie’s gaze in the mirror and raised her eyebrows. It was time. Sadie nodded once.
“Okay everyone, time for The Bonding.”
“The what? Are you sure I’m not about to become some guy’s sixteenth sister-wife?”
Thayer pinched Sadie’s elbow and led her to the door. “Wait in the hallway until someone comes for you.” Her voice was sharp now; she meant business.
“Don’t make noise, don’t ask questions, just do everything exactly as you’re told.” She held up a white silk scarf and made a twirling motion with her finger.
Sadie turned to face the door, and the fabric settled over her temples. Thayer yanked it once, hard, and she winced.
With Thayer guiding her elbow, they stepped outside the door. “Any last questions?”
“Uh yeah, what the hell am I walking into, and why am I dressed like I just left a soft-core porn shoot?”
The door slammed, and Sadie was alone. The thick wooden door and stone walls snuffed out the sound from the white room, and the hallway was unnervingly quiet. A breeze crept along the narrow corridor and blew the flimsy robe off her bare legs. She shivered.
She squinted into the darkness that spread out in front of her. The white scarf must have been more symbolic than functional, because she could still make out the lanterns that lined the hallway. She heard footsteps behind her. The voice was back.
“You ready?”
“Do I have a choice?”
That mocking laugh again. A hand found her arm and tucked it under an elbow.
“Let’s walk.”
Up and up they went, spiraling upwards in a slow, lazy circle. The low rumble of the ocean faded and fell away, until all she heard was the muffled crackling of flames.
“Wait here.”
Standing there silently, nothing beyond the gauzy white fabric but darkness, she realized she was drunk. Excitement bubbled through her veins, and she felt like she was watching herself from above, like she was in a dream and she could do whatever she wanted and nothing bad would happen. She was happy, nervous, and nauseous. The emotions mixed in her stomach and fermented, boiling down to a steady hum of anxious energy.
Footsteps echoed, and the voice was at her side again.
“We’re going to walk straight into the room, and when I stop, you stop.” It was a whisper now. She nodded inanely in the darkness. She took a deep breath, and as she exhaled, they started forward.
She stumbled slightly as they crossed a stone threshold. Her feet felt foreign and uncooperative, and they were slowly going numb as the cold of the stones seeped into her soles.
As they walked, she felt space. The air had room to shift here, and an almost imperceptible breeze played on her bare legs and stomach. After the cramped passageways and stairwells, the feeling of empty volume was intimidating. She felt watched, and completely alone.
She could hear the wind howling outside. With the sounds of the ocean and the curving stone staircase, she knew where they must be: the tower.
After twenty paces, the elbow slipped away and she stopped. She glanced to the left and right, but the room was black as pitch. She listened for whispers and shuffling feet, but heard nothing. Everything was still.
Directly ahead of her, a flame appeared. It was small, match-sized. With a blue flare of phosphorous, it became two. The flame moved inches to the right and flared again. Around in a circle the flame went, multiplying with each step. She followed it with her eyes until it disappeared behind her, and soon she was surrounded by a ring of light about ten feet across.
A low voice broke the silence.
“In the beginning, there was only chaos — a dark, primordial void.” The words bounced around the room, and she knew it was him again. The voice.
“Then, out of the void appeared Night and Erebus, the unknowable place where death dwells. All else was empty — silent, endless, darkness.”
She recognized the words of the Greek creation myth. With a low hiss, each of the tiny dots of light grew larger, and soon she could make out a hood above each one, hanging low and menacing over a masculine chin and cheekbones. She counted them, one by one. There were twelve.
“Then, somehow, love was born, bringing the start of Order. From Love came Light and Day, and then Gaea, the earth, appeared.”
The voice grew slowly louder, and it echoed around the room until she felt surrounded by his words.
“As descendants of Gaea, the twelve Titans ruled the world. The Titans were ruled by Cronus, father of the first Olympians. Cronus feared his children would overthrow him, so he swallowed them, one by one, after they were born. When Cronus’s wife Rhea bore her sixth child, she wrapped a stone in swaddling clothes, and Cronus swallowed the stone instead. That child was Zeus.”
Ahead of her, the circle of light began to move. It bulged, then split and separated. Darkness flowed into the circle and snuffed out the little visibility she had. She heard footsteps, and the flames returned, barely illuminating the figure who had joined her in its center. He stood at least seven feet tall, and he was wrapped in a heavy black robe. In the dim light, she could see that a hood hung low over his face. He looked huge, and a creeping fear started to take hold at the base of her spine.
“Zeus grew handsome and strong, and with the help of Rhea, he freed the rest of his swallowed siblings and overthrew the Titans, beginning the age of the Pantheon, the all-powerful Gods of Olympus.”
A low murmur filled the dead air. The twelve faces surrounding her were chanting, but it was so soft she couldn’t make out the words. It was almost a whisper, barely audible above the wind whistling outside. The voice continued.
“Zeus, king of all Gods and ruler of all men, became infatuated with a beautiful Phoenician princess who went by the name Europa. On a warm, spring day he set out to seduce her. Knowing she would be frightened by the beauty and power of him in his true form, he disguised himself as a white bull. He mixed himself in with her father’s flock of cows as she played nearby with a group of other maidens.”
The dark figure pulled back his hood and his robe fell away. Involuntarily, she gasped. He wore a loose-fitting pair of black pants, and his skin glowed in the flickering candlelight. On his head he wore a white mask that covered his eyes and cheekbones and cast the rest of his face in shadow. A giant bull’s horn curved up from each temple, giving him the illusion of being incredibly tall. He was beautiful and terrifying, and she felt her pulse quicken, out of fear or excitement, she couldn’t tell.
“Europa and the maidens were drawn to the bull, noticing his spotless flanks and powerful muscles.”
Sadie felt a rustling at her side and realized she was surrounded by figures in white robes. They had flowers in their hair and small white masks covering their eyes. One of the girls squeezed her elbow softly. Her face was blank, but something about the gesture was reassuring. Sadie noticed her dark red hair and the fear started to seep out of her body.
She felt herself being propelled forward. They walked toward the boy in the mask, fanning out and encircling him, a small circle of white inside the ring of flames. They took her hands and placed them on his chest, moving them in slow circles. The chanting continued, louder now. Whatever it was, it wasn’t English.
The girls had surrounded him, and they were running their hands across his back and ribs. They were chanting too, their lips moving in unison beneath their masks. She looked up at him through her gauzy blindfold and realized he was staring at her intently. She couldn’t see his face, but she could hear him breathing, hard and a little ragged.
She looked down at her hands on his chest and realized she was trembling. His skin was so hot she could feel the heat seeping into her palms and spreading down her forearms like hot oil. The chanting grew louder.
“Encouraged by his gentle nature, Europa climbed upon his back and rode him through the fields of wild flowers and onto the banks of the ocean.”
Sadie paused. The girls had surrounded her again, and six pairs of hands turned her so the man was on her left. She felt hands on her shoulders, and the robe fell away. Then, with one swift motion, he swept her up into his arms and walked back the way he had come, the circle parting to let them through. He squeezed her softly with both arms, a gesture that felt oddly familiar.
“When they reached the waves, the bull continued across the ocean, taking her with him to the island of Crete, where he seduced her and made her Queen.”
He carried her up a short flight of steps, and she realized the flames were following them, guiding their way and then fanning out in a circle around a sort of altar, a raised platform draped in heavy dark fabric. Before he laid her down, he leaned down and brushed her lips with his.
She tensed and he pulled away. He stared down at her. There was a question in the look, like he was waiting for something from her, some kind of sign.
She bit her lip and noticed a familiar taste she couldn’t quite place. His face was still close, and she could feel his hot breath on her cheek. She breathed in deeply, trying to force the nerves and the fear back down into the depths of her stomach. She smelled cinnamon. Something inside her gave way, and she felt like her skin was on fire. Jeremy.
She squeezed the arm around his neck, and he exhaled. She could almost see the tension leaving his body in waves. The flames were all around them now, and he placed her softly on the altar, laying her head down on a silk pillow. As the chanting grew louder still, it quickened and the words reverberated rapidly around the stone walls. He stood over her, and she could still smell the warm scent of his breath on her face.
The chanting was so fast now that the sounds ran together. The noise pounded in her ears, and she felt the vibrations deep in her chest. When the chanting was so loud and so fast she felt like it would swallow her up, he leaned down and kissed her, again.
Without thinking, she arched her body up to meet his and parted her lips. The chanting grew louder and faster, so loud they must have been yelling. Then, in one split second, the chanting stopped and the flames blew out, plunging the room into total darkness. They parted, and the only sound she heard was their breathing, loud and raspy in the sudden silence.
As she lay there, she was filled with a sense of foreboding. Had they done something wrong? She felt hands underneath her shoulders, and someone guided her up off the table and onto the floor in front of the altar. Someone told her to kneel, and she did, sinking down into the carpet. With a pang of embarrassment, she realized what she had just done, kissing Jeremy in front of a room full of faceless people. She smiled to herself, and she was surprised to realize she didn’t care. She couldn’t wait to do it again.
The voice spoke again, filling the silence.
“Sadie Marlowe and Jeremy Wood, you have been invited to join the Order of Optimates. In embodying the spirits of those who came before us, the almighty Gods of Mount Olympus, you have sealed yourselves within the Order, as members and standard bearers for all eternity. Do you solemnly swear to uphold the values of the Pantheon, maintain loyalty to your brothers and sisters of the Olympiad, use your strength, intelligence, and power to further the goals of the Order, and protect the secrecy of this body upon penalty of death?”
Silence filled the room, and then Jeremy spoke. His voice was calm and clear.
“I do.”
A hand tapped her on the shoulder. She took a deep breath.
“I do.”
“We offer these neophytes to you, Zeus, for judgment. Do you find them worthy?”
She was confused. She waited, but no instructions came. After what felt like minutes, she heard a series of scraping noises, somewhere high above them. She heard rustling, as if a group of people were getting to their feet, and a new voice spoke, older and deeper this time. “We do.”
There was another pause, and then the voice continued.
“The seal has been made. Let them have light.”
She felt the blindfold fall from her eyes and bright lights flared on overhead. She heard champagne corks popping. People cheered.
Brett was at her side, helping her up, and she rushed her down the steps to where a group of girls in white robes stood laughing and filling glasses of champagne. She recognized Thayer’s long blonde hair, and a few of the other girls looked familiar. She searched the room fruitlessly for Jessica’s light brown hair, and a pang of disappointment settled deep down in her stomach. She looked back over her shoulder and saw Jeremy in a circle of guys in black robes, hoods pushed back off their faces. They clapped him on the back and took turns earnestly shaking his hand. He looked up and met her eye, and the corner of his mouth drew up in a smile. She turned back toward the group, and Thayer handed her another glass of champagne.