6 Deranged Pyscho #2
Savvy’s black latex-covered hand extends to me. In my periphery, I see Jace and Luca offering their arms without question. I hold it out as she wipes my inner bicep. She turns back around, applying a stencil.
“This mark is not a decoration. It’s not tradition for the sake of it. It will not make you more capable than you already are,” Lucian says.
“So no superpowers?” Luca chimes.
Lucian gives him a look and I hear Luca chuckle.
“This insignia exists for one purpose. To signify that you entered this by choice. Your actions will no longer be shielded by initiate status. Your failures will be yours, as will be your successes. You are claiming the Guild. If any of you have doubts, this is your final opportunity to walk away without penalty.”
I can feel Savvy’s eyes as she waits for my acknowledgement. Lucian gave me a choice before, and I chose this path. I’m not about to back down now. I’m not a coward. Daniel must pay.
I nod to Savvy, keeping my head lifted. She switches on the tattoo gun and presses the needle to my skin.
The vibration is soothing in a way. It stings, but it’s nothing compared to what I’ve endured.
It turns into a fine, insistent pressure.
A controlled etching just beneath the surface.
My fingers twitch a few times as Savvy traces the stencil.
I close my eyes as tears threaten to spill. He should be here. Getting his mark beside me. Just another piece to add to the ink he already had. Memories of my hands tracing over the designs fill my mind and my chest longs to hear his voice, his laugh, my name on his lips. Even just once more.
The ache intensifies. I’m not sure it’ll ever dull. I can almost hear him. Telling me to suck it up. I earned this. I’ve worked for this.
The device hums along my skin, putting me in a sort of trance. When the sound stops, something feels like it’s been changed. Savvy wipes my bicep, rinsing it with alcohol.
There’s nothing there. No ink. No proof except for the lines of blood that dot along my skin.
But I can feel it.
Savvy clicks on a blacklight, shining it over my arm. The fox head dagger shines brightly.
“It will remain reactive.” The man behind Savvy says as he closes the case.
I glance at the others who are also getting their biceps wrapped. All masked members move away from us and fall back in formation.
“Now, you enter the system.” Lucian gestures.
Smaller steel doors open without any additional fanfare.
Lucian enters and we fall into a line and follow him. The corridor beyond is narrow and dimly lit, the air cooler, almost sterile. Our footsteps echo differently here. The door requires a key code and a retinal scan before it unlocks. The mechanism clicks open.
The room inside is stark. Steel walls. Matte black floors. Recessed lighting.
At the center stands a circular platform surrounded by sleek terminals.
The door seals behind us, and for the first time tonight, I feel like I want to turn back around and walk out. At least the council members didn’t follow. The contained space would’ve felt even more suffocating.
A faint, electrical hum runs through the room.
Lucian gestures to the machine beside him. “When you step onto that platform, you are going to be entered into the Guild’s active network. Your biometric data will be encoded into secure systems across all Guild properties.”
My pulse ticks higher.
“From that moment forward, every clearance door, vault, weapons locker, and secure channel will recognize you. Every action you take as a member of the Guild will be recorded.”
Noah’s probably in technical heaven.
“This is not surveillance, it’s accountability,” Lucian finishes. “Gracie.”
Hearing that name in this room feels different. It soothes my nerves, and he knows it.
I step onto the platform and the surface lights faintly beneath my boots.
“Ready?” His voice is lower, just for me.
I nod to him.
The platform kicks on, a blinding light scanning over me. Retinal scan, palm reader, then my finger is pricked for blood. Before I know it, the platform is dimming and falls back to a hum.
“You’re officially a registered member in the Guild.” Lucian smiles as I step down.
“Honor amongst thieves, bound by blood.” I recite and he beams with pride.
Daniel has gone deep underground. No sightings. No chatter the Guild can pin down. He’s just another shadow in the dark, and it’s infuriating. With every passing day without a lead, it feels like another insult, another reminder that he’s still out there, breathing while Tex is six feet under.
Classes resume as if nothing happened. As if I didn’t feel someone I love bleed out in my arms. I sit through lectures, take notes, answer questions, and nod along to the girls’ chatter during meal times. On the surface, I look functional again.
But in my mind, I’m somewhere else.
The Guild does what it always does. Covering the truth in a convenient lie. Most people think Tex dropped out, setting up to transfer abroad. Not like he talked to people outside the Guild and the Blackmoore Four. No one questions it.
Maeve tells me she overheard some girls in the bathroom speculating Tex left because I broke his heart. I can’t understand how anyone knows. We never took it public. We danced at Halloween. Otherwise, most people saw us with the others.
I can’t follow the thoughts, they just lead me in circles.
We still train daily, sometimes multiple times a day.
I push until my arms ache, and my muscles shake from the strain.
I push past the point of comfort, past the edge of safety.
I want the bruises. I want to hurt. I want to feel the pain because it means I’m getting stronger, and strength means next time I’ll be ready.
I go to the cage more and more often. Sometimes to fight, sometimes to just sit in a space where I can almost feel Tex’s presence. Like he’s beside me watching the fights.
Maeve has blended in seamlessly. Dakota and her friends embrace her and it’s...
good. Normal. Sometimes they pull me in, and I let them.
Sitting cross-legged on the floor while they gossip about professors or argue over which cafeteria hot chocolate is the least watery.
For a few minutes at a time, I almost feel like a normal student.
But the hunger doesn’t leave.
Every mission I’m cleared for, I take. No hesitation. Lucian tries to ease me back in—low-risk, short ops, simple retrievals—but I’m efficient, decisive, and quick to volunteer for the next. And the next.
Sometimes it’s just me and Savvy. It's nice to share the space, the stories and when needed, the quiet. To grieve. To be. Most of the time, I go with the group. Noah tries to figure me out like a mathematical equation. Luca tries to make me laugh with his ridiculous jokes. And Jace…keeps me steady with a hand on my back or a look I can’t seem to tear myself away from. Even if it fills me with guilt.