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"Are you ready for your final initiation into ABO?" Lisa asked, sticking her head through Willow's door. She was smiling. There was a mischievous glint in her eyes. She'd had that look a lot lately. Willow was tired of it. If this was the final hazing ritual though, she could put on a smile. It was worth it in the end.
"Yeah. I am. What do I have to do?" Willow asked.
"Follow me," Lisa said.
She left Willow's room. Willow put on her slippers and followed. It was late for this, but whatever it was, it couldn't be worse than last week's "ritual bar crawl." Lisa and some of the other sisters had dragged her out at 9:00 PM and only let her return at 2:00 AM. She'd drank enough that she'd spent an extra hour hunched over the toilet, and was so hungover when she woke up she had to skip class.
Lisa and Willow passed Janet and Katie on their way down the stairs. As soon as they were past, the two of them started to whisper to one another. Willow rolled her eyes. The whole sorority took itself so seriously, as if they had darker secrets than the insider trading their parents were up to.
She wanted to like her fellow sisters more, but she really only got on with Rachel, Bee, and when she wasn’t being weird, Lisa. Everyone else was a cardboard cutout, as if they were created in a lab to conform to as many upper-class social expectations as possible. She wasn’t going to miss this place when she graduated, and she was going to hate any reunion they had, but once all was said and done, the network she’d have would be unbeatable. She could get whatever internship she wanted, convert that into any job she wanted, and claw her way into riches her family only dreamed of.
They entered the living room. Beth, Annabelle, Rose, and a few of the other sisters were piled onto the couch, watching "Secretary." Willow only knew it because she was a fan of Spader and she liked to break it out whenever someone said they liked 50 Shades of Grey as a bit of hipster spite. When they saw Lisa move toward the basement door, one of them paused the movie and they all looked over.
"Oh my God, you're going to make her do it alone?" Beth asked.
"I don't think you should," Annabelle said. "Like—"
"It's fine. She's more than capable. Right, Willow?" Lisa asked.
Willow held back her sigh. "Yeah. I'm up for it. Whatever it is, I'll be fine."
"I…I don't know. I have nightmares about it. Sometimes. You're going to—can I say what she has to do?" Rose asked Lisa.
"Keep it abstract, don’t spoil all my fun,” Lisa said.
"You're going to the basement to meet the mascot.”
That was interesting. She’d been curious about the mascot for a while. She was pretty sure it was some sort of pet, but everyone was always so hush-hush about it. No sister other than Rachel, Bee, and Lisa went down there unless it was their turn to ‘take care’ of it, and conversation about it was more taboo than sorority's past incidents of racism
Her favorite theory was that they had a particularly ugly hairless cat that was the descendant of the first ugly hairless cat the sorority had made their mascot.
“I’m looking forward to it,” Willow said. She was surprised to find that she meant it. Whatever had the other sisters this scared had to at least be interesting.
"Then let's go," Lisa said. She walked toward the basement door.
"Lisa," Beth said. "I really don't think she should do this alone."
No one else spoke. Beth was a senior. The house's treasurer. A person that you wanted to be friends with. Lisa was just a normal member. But when she titled her head just a bit to the side and fixed her with something a bit shy of a glare, anyone could’ve been forgiven for thinking Lisa was the president.
“I think it’s going to be just fine, Beth.”
"I want to do this. I am up for whatever is there. I am committed. I promise." Willow was not going to see her chance to get this over with spoiled by a fight.
"See?" Lisa said. She flashed before she opened the door and gestured for Willow to go on. Willow moved forward. The eyes of her sisters followed her as she did. A blast of cold air hit her at the threshold. It made goosebumps raise on her skin. She took a few steps down and waited for Lisa. Lisa shut the door behind them and plunged them into darkness.
"This isn’t a complicated task. Once you go down the rest of the stairs and through the entranceway, you're going to find our mascot. You're also going to find the sorority's ritual dagger,” Lisa said.
"We have a ritual dagger?"
"We do. ABO started because our founders were a part of a witches coven. Some of them were burned at the stake. The craftiest made it, though. And they fashioned their coven into a sisterhood that continues to this day. Obviously, witchcraft is bullshit, but we keep some of the traditions around. This is the most important one. It's not magic, but it's transformative. So, you're going to go down there and you're going to find the mascot and the dagger. Then, you're going to take the dagger and cut the mascot."
Oh fuck. The mascot was an animal. Willow was going to be sick. She was glad it was too dark for Lisa to see her. She leaned against the wall and swallowed back bile.
"Is it alive?"
"Yes, our mascot is alive. Now go. If you don’t commit to this, if you walk back up those stairs, you're out of ABO. We'll help you find somewhere else to live, but you'll never be one of us."
Willow closed her eyes and breathed. She wanted to be one of them. She wanted the benefits. She had spent too much time giving up now. This was an opportunity. This was her path to wealth. This was her future.
"I'm going to do it. I didn't say I wouldn't.”
“Good. There is a light switch down there. It'll give you enough light to see what you need to."
Willow stopped thinking, grabbed the railing, and went down the rest of the stairs. The last few creaked. She felt a wall right ahead of her and a hall to the left. She went and felt herself enter another room. At once, she could tell that there was something down there with her. It made the hairs on the back of her neck stand at the end. She felt around for the switch, found it, and flipped it.
Dim lights flickered to life overhead, revealing the mascot, which Willow could only assume was the naked woman laying in the middle of the room, wrapped up in a small thin blanket, a manacle around its ankle with a thick chain leading down into a drain. Around her--what Willow could only assume was just beyond the reach of the chain—was plush carpet, couches, and coffee tables. A little mini fridge hummed away in the corner.
Willow looked over her shoulder. She didn't think Lisa was going to let her go. Could she win in a fight? And even if she did, what about the other sisters? They knew she was here. The whole house knew by now. She couldn’t bring this to the police. They’d either deny everything or pin it all on her.
The woman started to shift. It was slow, careful, and looked every bit like an abused animal. Willow remembered a dog named Ruby that had been a long term resident of the animal shelter she'd worked at to rack up volunteer hours for school. She jumped at everything. She rarely played. Her suspicion ran deep. People fostered her, but she always ended up back at the shelter in the end. Has this woman ever tried to escape? Or had they beaten her down enough that she'd rather stay in her cage?
She moved gracefully onto her knees, sat back on her legs, and placed her arms behind her back. She made some minute adjustments here and there so she was kneeling a bit straighter before she went still. A curtain of long brown hair hid half of her face. It looked surprisingly healthy. She had very small breasts with broad shoulders for how thin she was. Her nipples were pierced with silver barbells. Her skin was pale. It looked like it hadn't been touched by the sun in a very long time.
"Hello," Willow said. The thing didn’t respond. She waited for a moment before trying again. “Hi?”
Still nothing.
Willow slowly approached, holding out her fist. Just like you did for dogs in case they bit. The woman shrunk back ever so slightly.
"Hey, hey, it's okay, I'm not—" she didn't finish. She was going to hurt her. At least, she was supposed to. She remembered there was a knife she needed to find. She took another look around the room and spotted a simple sheathe resting on a simple wooden display right above the largest couch. "How did you get here? What's your name?"
The woman said nothing. A flash of irritation passed through Willow.
"Say something! C'mon!"
"Dirt, Miss. I'm dirt." Her voice was clear. The words were as practiced as her posture. Now that Willow was closer, she could see that the woman's skin was covered in scars. Some were careful and long—as if they were abstract tattoos. Most were short, shallow, and messy.
"How did you get here?"
"This is my role in the sorority. This is where I had to go to be a part of it. I'm the mascot."
"You—you went here willingly?"
"I'm the mascot. I am a representative of the power of the house. I am a vessel. I need to be here. There always needs to be something."
They had gotten rid of less of the magic cult shit than Lisa had made it sound. This woman sounded like she was more indoctrinated than someone in the Manson Family. She wasn't making eye contact, but Willow could see the resolve in her eyes. She would die for this house. For the people who were keeping her chained up in a basement. They could leave the door unlocked, because it didn't matter who saw her there. She would tell them she didn't want to leave.
It made Willow feel better. Something inside of her unclenched. If that's what she was saying, what was Willow going to do? Get in an argument and tell her she was lying? What if it was true? Maybe they had conditioned her after, but it wasn’t like they had an unwilling victim. She was more like a lamb that was eager to trot up to the altar for slaughter.
"You like it here?" Willow asked.
"It doesn't matter what I like. I don't want to like it. I want to have a purpose. I want to be a vessel. I want to be the soul of the house. I…I am the house. I am not a person."
Okay. She was fucking insane. Cool. That was fine. Willow was going to cut an insane woman. That was—Willow was—oh fuck it. She didn't care. She could do this. She could cut this woman. She didn't give money to homeless people, she ate meat, and she was gleefully consuming and contributing to the destruction of the planet. She did bad shit sometimes because it was convenient and useful. This would be one of those things. A sin that no one would bat an eye about if they could just see her perspective on it.
"Okay. My name is Willow. I'm a new sister."
"I'm honored."
"Can I—what do we do to you? What happens to you down here?"
"Whatever you want. Anything, Miss. Anything."
"Well, I was told I was going to cut you."
"Please."
There was desperation in her voice. A need. And suddenly, Willow felt inadequate. She didn't know what it meant to want something. She didn't truly understand the need. This woman—this creature chained up in the basement—was smarter than her.
It pissed her off.
The anger was hot and bright. It came from the same place that told her if she was in danger and it told her that she wanted to kick the woman—no—the dirt in front of her. She had said they could do anything. She was kneeling here. She could—she could and no one would know. No one would care. Why not do it?
"Fuck you," Willow snarled. She threw a kick into the thing's thigh. The top of her foot struck with a satisfying smack. The thing cried out and its posture broke. It caught itself before it hit the floor. As it did, Willow saw a silver glint between its legs again. This time, she could tell what it was.
A chastity cage.
This person was trans.
She was dizzy. She took a step away. The woman, thing, Willow didn't know, she didn't want to think of a trans person as a thing-- that was fucked up on too many levels for her track--quickly adjusted so it was back in the same position as before, it's knees pressing together to hide the cage.
"Spread your legs," Willow said. She couldn't stop the question. She felt possessed. It reminded her of the time she'd listened to the school's bullies tear apart a girl. They had made her cry. By the end of it, the victim had been on the ground, her face streaked with tears, begging them to stop. The bullies left after that. Willow started to as well. But before she was gone, they’d made eye contact. The victim looked broken. She looked like an offer of help, a hand, would've meant the world.
But Willow hadn't given her it. She didn't know why. She just shook, rolled her eyes and stuck out her tongue instead. And the victim had crumpled. Like she was a puppet with her strings cut. Willow had never seen a woman so defeated. She had stood there for a long minute, watching. Drinking everything in, before the sound of a teacher calling her scared her off.
For the life of her, she couldn't remember that other girl's name.
"Yes Miss," the woman said. She shifted and got her knees wide. It showed Willow what she expected to see. She still crouched down to get a better look. She'd seen this kind of thing in porn and smut she read, but there it seemed as unreal as magic. She never thought she’d seen one in front of her.
Willow touched the woman’s cage. She didn't flinch. This must've happened to her before.
"Why do you have this?”
"Miss Lisa likes it. No one else objects, Miss. You can ask her for the key if you want to use it."
"No. No, I'm not doing that." Willow stood up and ran her hands through her hair. She got why everyone else had been so afraid for her to do it alone, but now that she was here, she was glad there was no one else around. She wanted what happened tonight to be an even bigger secret than this thing's existence.
She walked by the woman and went to the knife on the wall. It slid out silently. It was a simple dagger—the sort of thing that she had seen in movies or on TV. Nothing about it seemed ritualistic. It didn't even look that old. The steel gleamed. She turned back to the thing.
"You've been cut by this before?"
"Yes, Miss." The thing didn’t even turn around.
"Where?"
"Alll over Miss.”
“Where do you want to be cut? What’s easiest?”
“Please cut me wherever you;d like, Miss."
She had to stop asking this thing for input. It wasn't going to help her. Willow decided to go for its back. She’d make a single shallow cut.. Then, she'd go upstairs and maybe look into therapy.
The thing's eyes were fixed on the floor. Willow came up behind her, crouched again, and put the blade against its back. It stiffened. Just a bit. But that was all it took for Willow to feel like its charade had broken. It wasn't perfectly in control. It wasn't some mystical vessel of the house. No matter how many times they conditioned this thing, no matter what it said, it was flesh and blood and had a brain. It was human.
She was human?
Willow wanted to stop thinking about any of it and started to cut it instead.
The knife parted the skin easily. Blood crept around the knife and started to slide down the thing’s back. It was so red, so bright. Willow watched it fall. Carefully, she moved the knife along, trying not to go in too deep. The thing was quiet and still, even as more of its blood spilled out. Willow grit her teeth. She couldn't stand it. It was human before, but now back to perfection? No. No, it hadn't gone anywhere. She just needed—
She dug the knife in harder. The thing gasped. The satisfaction went down to Willow's bones. She wanted to twist the knife, but she wanted it to heal well. She didn't think it would if she did that.
She yanked the knife away. Her knuckles were white. She was breathing hard. The blood kept running down the thing’s back. It was back to being still. Back to being perfect.
Willow put the knife to its throat.
"What the fuck is wrong with you? You could get out if you wanted to, couldn't you? They wouldn't keep you here. Not all the girls are psychos. So you're here because you want to be. Because you're all fucked up. Why are you so fucked up?"
"I—Miss it's—"
"Say something! Are you getting off on this?"
"I need this.”
Willow shoved the thing down. It fell into a perfect little ball, yet somehow, even that looked delicate. Willow saw red. She kicked it. It landed with a satisfying thunk against its leg. The thing gasped. It felt good. She needed it to respond. She needed to know there was something else in there, and she needed to put whatever was inside of her out.
The next kicks she threw were full strength and reckless and made her feel high. The thing curled up more, but not enough to truly protect itself from her. She kicked it until her foot throbbed and she had to pause to catch her breath.
"Get up. Get—kneel again. You fucking worthelss—worthless dirt," Willow spat.
The thing did. Into its graceful kneel. She walked back around to it. To look at its face. Its eyes were a bit glassy. It didn't look like it was there. She slapped it. The noise cracked through the basement. When the thing moved its head back, she saw its eyes were back. She had its attention. She made it look at her. She pressed the knife to its stomach.
"I could gut you. I could kill you. I could—I could do it." Her hands were shaking. "I could destroy you."
"Willow, back up."
Willow looked back. Lisa had entered the room. She was heading toward them. Willow realized how she looked and what she was doing. She backed up.
"Give me the knife," Lisa said. She held out her hand. Willow passed it to her. She nodded. "You can beat it, you can fuck it, but you can't kill it. I want it alive."
"What?"
"You were talking about killing it. You can't do that. The rest of us want it."
Willow heard hte words, but she wasn’t parsing them. She saw the knife in Lisa’s hand and had a moment where she wasn’t sure how it got there. "What?"
"Come here," Lisa said. She wrapped her arm around Willow's shoulder and guided her to a couch. Shew sat the bloodied knife down on the table. "You need to breathe. You're freaking out."
Willow looked at the thing. It was still kneeling. How could it stand to do that for so long? Willow could barely kneel for five minutes without having to sit. Willow wanted to stand up and kick it again.
"Where did you get that thing?"
"Well, it wanted to join the sorority, it couldn't make it as a sister, but we had room for a mascot. We offered it the chance and it took it. You're overthinking it. It's simple.”
Willow begged to fucking differ. Nothing about this was simple.
"It's okay if you like it."
"Huh?"
Lisa smiled down at her. She felt so much taller than Willow knew she actually was. It made Willow want to destroy the thing even more. She didn't want to feel small. This wasn't fucking her.
"You like hurting it. That's fine. I thought you might. You're like me, Bee, and Rachel. We like it too." She glanced at the thing. "It likes when you hurt it, as well.”
"What the fuck? You're fucked up."
"You are too. I have feelings about it the same as you. Best thing to do right now is work them out. I’ll give you a cane and let you beat the shit out of it with it. Try not to break anything and don't go for the head. I mostly do ass and thighs. Squishy targets that you can do over and over again. Then, once you're exhausted, sleep on everything and we'll talk about it in the morning. You’re too hyped up for anything rational right now.”
She smiled at Willow. It was a real, genuine smile. It didn't have any of her usual guile. There wasn't the same glint of teeth or promise of consequences if I pushed back. She really, honestly, truly thought she was doing Willow a favor. Willow glanced at the thing. Saw it still kneeling there, and then realized it had heard the entire conversation.
"Give me it," Willow said. It didn't feel like she was possessed anymore, as much as it felt like she was slipping on boxing gloves. It had heard her and that pissed her off. Lisa pissed her off. This sorority and house and how she couldn't seem to catch hold of anything to stop herself from spinning out pissed her off. She didn't know if hitting something would make her feel better, but it was worth a shot.
The thing deserved it, anyway.
Lisa patted Willowon the head. The condescension made the anger burn brighter. Willow wanted to hit her almost as much as she wanted to beat the thing. Lisa didn't do this to all the pledges. She had sent Willow down here, then interrupted her. Willow wasn't going to kill the thing to begin with. She just wanted to see it afraid.
Lisa opened a chest that Willow hadn't seen in the corner and withdrew a piece of what looked like bamboo that was just a bit shorter than arm's length. She swished it through the air. Willow found the sound was satisfying. She walked over and handed it to Willow. Willow was surprised by how light it felt. She tapped it against her leg, then gave herself a light smack. She winced at the jolt of pain. It hurt more than expected.
"Go break its spirit, not its bones," Lisa said.
"You're not funny."
Lisa sat back and spread her arms. "I think I'm funny. Now go do it or leave so I can."
Willow strode up to the thing still kneeling on the floor, still listening to what was said, still trying to be perfect.
"Stick your ass into the air," Willow hissed.
"Yes, Miss." It started to move into position.
"Shut the fuck up. I don't want to talk to you, I don't want you to respond to me. I only want you to obey.”
The thing nodded. It adjusted so its back was pressed against the floor and its hips were sticking up. It didn't look comfortable. It did show off its ass though which—even when it was covered in scars and welts—still looked bigger and more pert than hers.
Willow drew back her arm and swung as hard as she could. The cane hissed through the air, and when it hit the thing, it barely made any noise. The thing however—the thing gasped.
She wanted to hear it again. She wanted to hear it scream. She pulled back the cane and saw the angry red welt already rising on its skin. She took aim at the same spot and swung again.
"Mhmmm!" the thing said. It had its head pressed against the ground and its eyes screwed up. Willow took in the sight. She felt strong. No matter what this thing thought, no matter what it did, no matter how it looked, it was stuck here and she wasn't. She was a sister. It was dirt. She would prove it.
She aimed right below where she'd hit before, and struck again.
She made it a project to make careful, perfect lines, all the way down the things ass. When it looked like the cane was hitting one side more than the other, she swapped where she was standing. And every time she hit, she stopped for a second to listen to the thing grunt and writhe and suffer. She no longer cared that Lisa was watching them. She no longer cared about anything except emptying everything she was into the dirt below her.
When she struck its seat, it finally screamed. It was a horrid noise. Weak and pathetic. The kind of tortured dog might make. Its whole body shook. It was glorious. Divine. She hit there again. And again.
And again.
And again.
Each blow was harder. She realized her teeth were gritted. The things' noises had turned into one long scream, rising and falling in time with where her cane landed. She had lost the careful lines she'd been making. All she cared about was reaching for more. More of everything. She was hot all over. She wanted to tear off her clothes and grind her cunt against its face. She wanted to stop hitting the thing with the cane and start kicking it until its ribs cracked. She wanted to make a noise so unholy the rest of the house came down to check.
She wanted this thing to keep making her its God.
She drew back the cane. A quiet sob stopped her mid swing. She paused. The rush of power, it dampened. The thing suddenly stopped seeing as much like a thing and started to seem more like a person. A person covered in cuts and bruises that she'd now contributed to. One naked and chained in the basement, cold and afraid. Willow tucked the cane under her arm. She didn't want to show weakness in front of Lisa. She could still feel her watching. The thing let out another pathetic sob. Willow walked around it and with a simple nudge of her foot, kicked the thing onto its side.
The thing—it really had no name, she was going to have to give it one no matter how anyone else in the house felt about it—didn't look up. It didn't look anywhere. Its sobs and shakes continued. Willow was going to throw up. She had liked it like this just minutes before. She reveled in it. So what the fuck was this?
"Finished?" Lisa called out.
Willow didn't care about her anymore. She dropped the cane and sat next to the thing. When she reached out to touch it, the thing cringed. It almost made her pull away. She fought the urge and rolled the thing into her lap.
It was still tense. Willow looked down at it, unsure of what to do. She wanted to feel better and she was sure that the only thing that was going to make her feel better was if this thing felt better, but how did she make that happen? She was fucking this up. She was sure of it.
"Ah, I see." Willow heard Lisa again up. She ignored her footsteps growing closer, but she couldn't ignore it when Lisa squatted down in front of her. "Here, why don't you come upstairs with me? We can cuddle."
"But…"
They both looked down at the thing. It was shivering in her lap, but it had relaxed a bit. Willow thought if she stayed, it would get better. Maybe. She didn't know. She wasn't sure she wanted to leave it though.
Lisa sighed and sat beside her. "I get it. You're scared you're going to break your toy. You're not. It's going to be fine. Honestly, you're spoiling it right now. She put her arm around her shoulder and pulled her in. "But if you need to spoil it, fine. It's your special day. You're a sister now. Take whatever you want. We'll talk about this when we decompress too."
Willow still didn't know what to do. Lisa gently took her hand and laid it flat on the thing’s back.
"Just rub it. I like it. It'll be the most kindness it's gotten in a while."
Willow started to stroke the thing in her lap like she would stroke a cat. It made a soft mewl of appreciation. The tightness in Willow's chest loosened. Just a bit. For all of Lisa's talk, she also seemed to enjoy sitting with the thing. She let it put its head in her lap, then scratched behind its ear.
Willow shut her eyes. She focused on the feel of the thing's skin under her hand. She suddenly remembered what Lisa had said. That she was a sister now. It had passed right by her the first time. Willow resisted the urge to open her eyes and ask her to confirm it again. She was too proud for that. She felt too proud for any of this.
Too proud to feel like she was on the verge of breaking apart.
So she pushed that all away. For later. Lisa was going to talk to her about it. And maybe she would go back to the basement again later, to force a real conversation out of the thing, whether it wanted to or not. She could do what she wanted, couldn't she? So why not that too?
She was going to be okay. She was going to be fine. She wasn't the one who had been hit. She wasn't the one chained to the basement. She wasn't a freak.
And if she was a freak, then she was going to get over it. She didn’t have to repeat this. She was free. This wsa whatever she wanted it to be. This didn’t mean anything more about her than her bad night drinking had been. It could be a mistake. It could be nothing. It could be whatever the fuck she wanted.
She pet the thing again. It made a quiet, almost imperceitble happy noise. Willow’s next breath came easier.
This was okay.
She was okay.