Chapter 11 #2
Still, we stand here, lined up in a row like the sacrificial lambs we are. We wait for the Doctors to choose who will be next, despite having no idea what being picked will entail.
We have no idea what goes on down there. What will be asked of us? What our sacrifice will really mean.
I have no clue how these things work, only going by what I’ve overheard from people who have been to their parties in the past, the girls who have tried but failed to be chosen.
Being here is a gamble I’m more than willing to take.
I know there is a chance that if they remove the mask, they will see who I really am.
I’ve already come up with a plan for that. If it comes down to it, I’ll tell them that I’m here out of simple curiosity, that I wanted to embrace more of the world my father is a part of.
Will it be embarrassing as hell? Yes, because I’d have to play the stupid, silly girl who doesn’t understand the danger I’m putting myself in.
I know more than any of these women here tonight.
If it means keeping my plans from crashing and burning, I’m willing to take that hit to my ego.
I want to be jealous of the women around me, knowing it’s a possibility that it’ll be one of them who gets chosen over me, but I’m too captivated by the power standing before me.
Slowly, they make their way down the hill towards us. As they grow closer with each step, my body prickles with the urge to flee.
Holy fuck. This is happening. This is really happening!
Play it cool, Nola. You got this. Everything is going to work out just fine. Breathe.
Shit, is it too late to turn around and run?
It’s not that I’m afraid of what will happen tonight, I’m actually really excited. I’ve already let my mind conjure up every sick and depraved thought I could possibly think of, getting more and more excited with each one.
“Whoa,” One of them whispers in awe. “They’re so fucking hot.”
I fight the urge to react, to turn my head and say something, or even better, bash her pretty face into a tombstone.
I know my guys haven’t slept with any of these women before, you need to be a virgin to participate. But I’m sure they’ve tried in the past with no success.
Why do they have to be some of the biggest manwhores I’ve ever had the privilege of knowing?
I need to not dwell on that right now because soon they will realize that these other women will never be good enough for them.
But I can. I will be.
These women won’t take the time or put in the hard work to show them, to prove that they are the right woman to handle anything the guys throw at them without breaking.
But I will.
Ignoring the women around me, I keep my full attention on the guys. Every move they make is captivating. They carry themselves like the kings that they are.
As they stop just a few feet away from us, a feeling of exhilaration flushes through me.
The fact that we’ve hardly spoken since we were kids doesn't change the feelings they invoke in me.
There’s something about them that calls to me, like some sort of divine intervention in my life.
For a good long minute, they just stand there, staring, watching, observing.
I try not to let my nerves get the better of me, but the longer the seconds tick by, the more I fear that this isn’t going to go the way I want. And the idea of one of these girls being chosen has me simmering with a rage that I only seem to have when it comes to these three.
Finally, they move, making their way down to the other end of the line. Ever so slowly, they walk past each and every girl, their gazes never wavering.
My eyes flick between the three of them, wondering who is who under each of those masks.
The ground seems to be uneven, so it’s hard to tell, but Wesley is slightly taller than the other two by about an inch. Still, they all stand over six feet, towering over us all like gods.
In a sense, I guess that's what they are. At least in our world.
When they come to a stop in front of me, I hold my breath, trying not to do anything that could give away my identity.
I resist the urge to fidget under their stare. Now is not the time to let my brain turn to mush. The whole point is for them not to know it’s me. If I start blubbing like an idiot, tripping over my own words, I’ll give myself away so damn fast.
Taking a step forward, they all crowd around me, cocking their heads to the side as they observe me closer, like they don’t seem to know what to make of me.
It’s looking like my choice in clothing was a good idea. Even with the bunny mask, I give off more of a pure, virginal vibe than the rest of the girls.
They take a step back from me, and a flicker of panic arises.
No. Fuck. They can’t pick one of them. I won’t allow it. It has to be me. They need to pick me. I need to show them, to show myself, that I can be who they need me to be. I can be the dark queen who tames their tainted souls. I just need a chance.
I cast my eyes to the ground, not wanting to admit defeat, but unless I cause a scene, I might have to accept that tonight isn’t my night.
I was so fucking close. Of course, they would look over me. I’m not the kind of girl they normally go for. I don’t have massive breasts and killer legs. I’m short, petite, nothing special.
When a hand grips my chin, I suck in a soft, shaky breath. My eyes widen in shock as they force me to look at them, snapping me out of my momentary pity party.
The middle one, who’s grasping my chin, tilts his head to the other side. I swear I can feel him smile, and a low whisky-smooth voice chuckles softly.
My nipples pebble against my bra as heat licks my core. To be touched by one of them, even a touch as simple as this, feels like heaven.
The one on the left reaches out, grasping my arm and pulling me forward.
I let out a small sound as I nearly stumble over my own feet. He catches me just before I crash into his chest. His large arm wraps around me, holding me to his body.
Swallowing hard, I tilt my head back to look up at him.
Is this really happening? Or am I hallucinating again?
There are sounds of displeasure behind me, alerting me to the fact that this means I was chosen. They picked me.
This is happening. This is really happening. Okay, Nola, be cool, no passing out.
I smile on the inside with giddy pleasure and swell with pride.
Out of all these women, did they really just pick me?
Looking over the guy's shoulders, I see a few other men have joined us, their arms out as they step forward, guiding the other women away.
Without another word, two of them grab each of my arms and start to walk me back up the hill they just came down, toward the mausoleum that sits upon it.
My head is spinning, different emotions start crashing into me all at once. Fear of the unknown. I hate being taken by surprise, being put in situations I don’t know how to get out of. Nerves over the fact that what if I’m not what they wanted, what if I don’t meet their expectations.
And pure and utter excitement over the fact that I’m about to lose my virginity to the three men who own my very being, my soul. Even if they’re not aware of who they have in their grasp.