This story is a continuation of the one I teased last week, here.
A SIDE
Scarlet couldn’t remember the last time she felt this trapped.
A textbook overachiever, her CV raised eyebrows of university admissions officers all over the world. Skilled in academics, athletics, and the arts—but for what? In all her years of pathologic type-A obsessiveness, she never learned how to politely exit a conversation. So she was stuck, silently praying for the man in green to stop talking.
The conversation in question was more of a monologue. It was delivered by a man in a bespoke emerald suit and matching mask. His conversational hostages, Scarlet and a second woman dressed and masked in white, hadn’t said a word in what felt like hours. Unable and unwilling to speak, Scarlet turned her attention to the rest of the party. She tried to piece together various clues, hoping to figure out what would happen tonight. But Green’s obnoxious personality drowned out the sound of her own thoughts. She had to swat his words away like flies if she wanted to keep a clear head.
Scarlet met many men like Green before. Almost all women had. And there was no crawling through a café bathroom window to escape this one. She certainly couldn’t leave the library the way she came. There were no other exits in sight—she’d been checking for the last half hour.
“So, whoever planned this party knew nothing about fire safety, am I right, ladies?” Green asked, referring to the wax candles lit throughout the library. To his credit, many of them were precariously placed on high shelves or near very old books. Green took a sip of his Old-Fashioned and grinned. Against his dark skin, his oddly large teeth shone and flashed like a warning. Scarlet couldn’t help but think of a Great White every time he opened his mouth.
Ignoring the joke, Scarlet watched the other attendees flit across the library. Their gowns and masks sparkled like jewels. Like Green, White, and everyone else in the room, Scarlet wore a mask (and clothing) true to her assigned alias. It was red, gold, and (she hoped) glittery enough to distract Green from her wandering eyes.
Scarlet wondered if the host got a laugh out of assigning her color. Her fiery hair earned her really creative nicknames like “Red” and “Carrot Top.” Usually, it flew behind her in a wild mess of curls as she dashed from one end of campus to another. Tonight, she wrangled it into a cascade of waves swept to one side of her neck. Under the party’s soft light, it glowed like the embers of a dying fire.
As if trying to control her hair wasn’t enough of a challenge, Scarlet was also tasked with finding bright-red black-tie attire on a budget. While men like Green custom-tailored suits for every occasion, Scarlet hadn’t properly shopped in months. In the weeks leading up to the gala, she scoured the internet, thrift stores, and friend’s closets for something that could work. When all else failed, Scarlet snuck into the the drama school’s wardrobe department. She left with a bright red sheath gown and gloves to match.
While Scarlet felt utterly ridiculous in such an ostentatious outfit, White seemed at home in hers. The sleeves of her lace jumpsuit crept from her wrist, up her shoulders, and ended halfway up her neck. The fabric was more a second skin than an article of clothing. Her real skin, visible in the fabric paneling, was a glowing tan: a sharp contrast to the pale, wedding-white lace. Patent white heels and a gauzy cape completed the look.
The Order required anonymity, but White demanded to be seen.
It was White who noticed Scarlet first. Scarlet exited the initiates’ tunnel, her face still covered in a thin layer of sweat. She looked around at the room, and White immediately made eye contact with her from across the library. She tapped Green on the shoulder, and they both waved her over. Scarlet’s trials in the tunnels left her wiped out, and all she wanted to do was collapse into one of the sofas and take a nap. But she knew that talking to fellow partygoers would help her better prepare for what The Order had planned for tonight.
When Scarlet joined them, Green exchanged introductions. He took it upon himself to introduce White as well. Green and White explained that they, too, were initiates, and traversed the same labyrinth to end up in the university library.
The library was completely transformed for the masquerade: the only lights were from candles and antique chandeliers, neither of which were normally used. And Scarlet would know. She was there a lot. There was a dais in the middle of the main floor. It wouldn’t be there come Monday, but right now, it looked like it had been there for centuries. The conversational hum and some soft piano music blended together to create a peaceful, ambient buzz.
Green spent most of his time guessing who was behind the masks (there were quite a few celebrities in the room). For Scarlet, the who didn’t matter so much as the why. She wanted to escape Green and figure out what this all was for, in that order. All she knew was that the people here were devoted to the arts so much they would give their lives for it. And maybe even kill for it.
It was just about midnight and a sudden chill went through Scarlet’s body. It was followed by a sense of foreboding. As the hairs on her arm prickled, she realized why: the music stopped. And everyone in the room held their breath.
Then, twelve violent gongs rang loudly through the room. She wasn’t sure where they came from—there was no instrument in sight, and nobody in the room moved a muscle. The doors flew open and a figure entered the room; gliding across the floor, making their way to the dais, with a cape, dark as night, trailing behind them.
B SIDE
21st September, 20—
Yeah, I guess it’s been awhile. But that’s because of Dave, and the band, and things just getting crazy. But lately, some stuff’s been going on that I can’t tell even Dave about. Dave, who’s seen me asleep with my cheek resting on the toilet seat after a hard day’s night; during the twin ecstasies of our first sold-out show and our first official date right after. Through the hardest semesters and most memorable college moments. Even before Dave and I got together, I felt like I had to tell him everything about every day. And I know he wanted to hear it.
So to hide something this huge from Dave feels incredibly wrong. But I can’t tell him about this, so I guess I’m stuck.
It all started when they sent me a fancy plum-colored mask and a calling card. It was straight out of an old-timey murder book. The card even had a raven stamped on the back. On the other side was an invitation consisting of a date (three months from now), an address (an intersection a few blocks from campus), and instructions to show up one hour past sundown. I was to dress only in the color of the mask they sent me. And, of course, this entire affair was to be kept a secret. It was signed: The Order of the Raven.
Our school had its fair share of secret societies. Obviously, I don’t know much about them. But the Order of the Raven is more than an exclusive alumni association. Once a year, two-dozen or so people worldwide “voluntarily” die as a “tribute” to the order. Again, because of the whole “secret” thing, I’m not sure how much choice they actually had in the matter. I couldn’t help but wonder: if I go to this masked ball, would I be one of the people sacrificed, or the one doing the killing?
There was no RSVP on the card. Something tells me they won’t take “No” for an answer.
20th October, 20—
Yeah, I know it’s been another few weeks. The first couple days after opening that invite, I would lie in bed, sweating, after waking from nightmares. Most of them featured a raven screeching “NEVERMORE” before proceeding to peck my eyes out. My body is then donated to science in the name of the Order of the Raven.
I had less brain room to worry about the invite after our band, Reichenbach Falls, got an offer to open for Valerian, the only band to make it big from our university. They loved the visuals I created with our drummer, Laine: digital avatars of the band in animal-humanoid form. They played weird-looking instruments and did other cute stuff on the internet. I’m pretty sure it’s the reason our band’s popularity rose so quickly: visuals are so easy to consume and share. Plus, the avatars make for great promo material.
Ramping up our practice sessions already added to my full schedule of studying for a double major (classics and graphic design), a math minor (to appease mom and dad), and taking it “to the next level” with Dave (his words, not mine—still unsure what that means). Things have been too busy for me to even think about the Order and my impending death. It was only when I got fitted for my plum suit that things started to feel a little more real.
But I chased the thoughts away, and the full days and nights almost always resulted in a deep, dreamless sleep.
11th December, 20—
It was officially go time! As I pulled on the purple suit, I silently made peace with my fate. There’s a pretty good chance that I might die tonight. Something in my gut told me there was more to the Order than a murder and death cult. And that little beacon of hope is all that prevented me from downwards spiraling to rock bottom. For now.
Still, I had to be sure I covered all my bases: there were notes for my parents, my siblings Kai and Kat, Dave (of course), and a few other loved ones. I put a letter in the mailbox explaining what Dave should do if I don’t return in 48 hours. If I make it in time before the mailman comes, I’ll just remove the letter.
Tonight, he thinks I’m tunneling in on my thesis project. He’s probably doing the same, huddled with friends in a cozy library while I march through a fresh layer of snow in my plum suit and camel-hair coat. My mask, wrapped in a scarf, is resting in one of the pockets.
I made it to the intersection without anything notable happening. The streets met at a corner facing the kind of alley that muggings happened in. But this was a a fairly quiet college town. So quiet that if a masquerade was happening somewhere, I should be able to hear it.
And then, I let out the girliest noise that has ever left my body: “AAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEHHHHHHHH”
This Week’s Top 3
- Spiderman: Across the Spiderverse 🕷 – visuals, soundtrack, comedy, nostalgia… it’s all there
- Audien’s Poolside DJ Set 🎧
- American Born Chinese 🐒 – my first graphic novel (unless you count Diary of a Wimpy Kid and Captain Underpants)