The fear.
This living, breathing thing battering away at the inside of my chest cavity like a hammer to coffin nails, quick finality.
“There is death inside this box. It senses unfaithfulness, it feeds on untruths, and it only leavestruePairs intact at the end. How quickly that end comes.” he looks between us, his dark green eyes flicking first to Billy, then to I, holding my gaze much longer than his younger brother’s. “Is up to you.” The cloaked Obsidian members stomp their feet, a resounding increase in tempo before falling silent at Gore’s next words. “There is no cure,” he lists each one slowly, “no antidote. No doctor. All you have is yourtruth, and your trust in your Pair.”
“I come willingly.” Billy states loudly, looking into his brother’s eyes, “I will do what is required. My blood, my breath, my pain, mylife,all for the binding.” The congregation roars in celebration, I flinch, the sound deafening, but Billy’s grip on me never falters.
His eyes coming back to mine, I can see it, how much this means to him, how much he means his words, how much he believes them. I have words to say too, ones I have been trying to remember and also forget so I don’t have to say them, so I don’t have to do this.
But I see it now.
Feel it.
There’s no getting out of this, and there really is no leaving The Obsidian.
My teeth chatter with nerves as I part my lips to say, “I come willingly.”
And the hooded figures surrounding us roar again, just as loudly, just as enthusiastically, if not more so than they reacted for Billy, and it makes me pause longer than I intend to between words.
I look around, seeing no faces, but feeling them. Eyes on me, attention on me, on this, on us. Theywantme to do this. They want us to pass this. I feel it in my bones like I’ve never felt anything so real before. A horde of people, all of them with thesame intentions, all of them with the same hopes. They’re here not to criticise, but tosupport, and in this moment, I’m not sure how I ever thought otherwise.
It’s as though there’s a drug in the air. Something suddenly snapping me awake, and the words I was, only moments ago, too hesitant to speak, flow out of me so naturally, it’s as though even I truly believe them.
“I offer myself to The Obsidian. To the trial. To my Pair. If I am to be undone, let it be here, tonight, before the eyes of those who judge me and who welcome me.”
The room erupts once more, the underground labyrinth that led me here, providing an endless echo of their unity, everyone in perfect sync.
“Then begin and let the Box of Fatum reveal you. If you endure, you are chosen. If you fall, your flesh will be a warning, and your soul will be a hymn for those who follow,” Gore’s rumbling voice booms.
And there’s not even a tremble in me when the chanting begins again, new words this time, “Fatum. Fatum. Fatum.”
Four red-robed figures close in on us, two for Billy, two for me, each of them taking our hands in theirs, holding them behind our backs. They stand me in front of the big wooden wheel, my back to it as they begin to tie my hands to its spokes. Billy stands before me, watching as the robed figures back away, leaving my arms spread wide, my fingers curling tightly over the leather bindings.
It’s another thing that surprises me, the softness of the leather, how I automatically expected something rough and sharp, something too tight and intended to hurt. It makes me bite my lip, worrying it as I glance around.
The cavernous room is filled with people, no one shoving or pushing, no fighting, no one speaking when Gore speaks, everything and everyone is in synchronicity.
Harmony.
I suddenly feel too hot, too aware of my own skin sitting tight on my skeleton, it feels like it hurts to breathe, because what if I’ve gotten this all wrong. What if everything I think is not real, what if everything Billy’s been telling me, how this isn’t a cult, it’s a community, afamily.
What if he’s right.
Billy steps up in front of me, the red-cloaked figures at his back, not holding his hands anymore, instead they just hover there, faces hidden, heads dipped, and Billy’s bringing his hand up towards me, a short silver dagger clutched in his fingers.
“Nellie,” he whispers on an exhaled breath as he comes in close, our noses almost touching, “Nellie, you are so perfect for me.”
And I know it, as his lips brush mine in a hidden kiss, his scent lingering in my nostrils, sharp grapefruit, earthy musk, those words are only meant for me.
And then he’s slicing down the front of my black dress, tearing it in two. The tip of the blade scoring my skin without cutting, my breath sucking into my lungs as I gasp, a tremble rolling through me.
Goosebumps erupt, my hot flesh feeling cold despite a wet sheen of sweat glossing my skin, and I’m desperate for his mouth again, for his lips to be on mine, for him just to touch me.
Billy uses the same blade to slice through the front of my bra, and then both sides of my knickers causing them to fall to the floor. My bra and dress clinging on only by my arms, the masses of fabric hanging off of my biceps, leaving me bare. Billy moves back, snagging the blade between his teeth before hooking his thumbs down the sides of his trousers and pushing them to the floor, his boxers going with them in one swift movement.
Stepping out of them confidently, he doesn't look around at anyone or anything else, he looks completely comfortable being naked, his eyes only for me.
He takes the dagger from his mouth, his muscles flexing, his warm brown skin glistening with a thin gleam of sweat in the candlelight as he reapproaches. Cock standing proud, jutting out from his body, his stride leisurely but determined. Billy takes the blade to his just-healed palm, a scar we both share, reopening the fresh red line with the silver dagger, delicate engravings on its hilt.
