The Oath

CW: This story contains mentions of cult activities (which I do not condone) as well as swearing. Viewer discretion is very much advised.

He was short with messy dark hair, clothes that didn’t quite fit him, and he was always clutching a book or video game nobody had heard of. He was quiet, too, sitting in the back of the classroom even when a seat in the midst of the other kids had been offered up to him. He was the last picked for games and group projects— from what I could gather from the kids in his grade, he was “too difficult to work with” and “not worth the effort.” Teachers often forgot he was in the class. 

He was perfect.

“You’re not from here,” I said, catching him alone in the only shaded corner at lunch.

The kid didn’t respond, just looked at me with suspicious eyes. His grip tightened on whatever odd book he was holding. 

“Nobody from here even knows those books exist,” I added, tapping the cover with my finger. “You're in sixth, right? I’m in eleventh.” 

“Why are you talking to me?” The kid asked. His voice had a rasp and he kept it low.

“I know what it’s like to be the new kid,” I sighed, looking off toward the screaming underclassmen running in all directions around the field. “I moved here when I was in fifth. I had been an extrovert all until I tried talking to the kids in this school— they found it freakish. The kids in my grade used my attempts at friendship as grounds for mocking me, stealing my supplies, and outcasting me at every turn, so I withdrew. Most of the upperclassmen ignored me, that is, all but one. She took me under her wing, taught me the rules of this town, both written and unwritten, and even stepped in to get the bullies off my ass. She was my only friend for the longest time and I will never be able to repay her.

“This town’s full of incels and it can be awfully lonely trying to survive on your own. That’s why I’m talking to you— what my lovely friend did, I’m paying forward.” 

The kid had closed his book and the suspicion in his eyes had vanished.

“You’re going to be my friend?” He asked, a hint of surprise in his voice.

“If you’ll have me as one,” I smiled, then offered my hand. “Cecilia.”

The kid freed one hand from his book, quickly wiped it on his jacket, and took mine.

“Ajax.”

The following months with the kid went as expected— better, even. I met him at the entrance in the mornings, wasting no time in getting him to talk about anything he wanted, typically being the obscure books and games he loved. I walked him to class, where I told off some of the dicks causing him trouble (the fear in their eyes was just beautiful). At lunch, I explained the rules to him, which he scribbled down in a composition notebook saying he would forget otherwise. After school, we’d keep up a conversation until someone came to pick him up; I made a point of walking him to his car and making friendly small-talk with his parents, an essential step in the plan.

Those brief chats paid off when the temperature began to drop and the kid’s parents agreed he could hang out at my house, especially since we lived nearby. Though he always did his homework first, he got through it quicker and quicker to maximize our time talking together. He picked our activities and I happily obliged, for it was essential that I did so.

One of these evenings, while we were making fun of old, horrible rom-coms, he picked up something wedged beneath my rug.

“What’s this?” He asked, holding up a purple and red ribbon. 

“Oh,” I replied nonchalantly, “that’s for my club. Everybody wears one in some way or another as a symbol of unity.”

“Is it a school club?” 

“No, out of school. Do you remember the upperclassmen that took me under her wing when I first moved here?” When he nodded, I continued, “She was part of the club, too. She invited me to a meeting and I’ve been a loyal member ever since. In a town full of ignorant jerks, they’re my family.” 

The kid’s eyes sparkled as I spoke and I had to fight to keep my smile neutral as he exclaimed, “Can I join?”

I turned my gaze up to the ceiling and tapped my chin with my index finger as if I was deep in thought. I let him agonize for a few moments before offering a response. 

“I’ll have to ask the leader— I can’t just bring people without permission anymore because we’ve had issues in the past with bad people trying to infiltrate. The meetings are pretty late in the evening, too, and I don’t know if your parents would agree with you being out so late…”

“I could sneak out!” The kid immediately concluded. “I’m really good at it and they never check because they’re always in bed early. I’d be in and out before anybody noticed I was gone!”

My grin widened at that and, as if making a tough choice, I sighed. 

“All right, I’ll ask the leader about it and let you know by tomorrow what they say, but don’t tell your parents, okay? Especially since you’ll be sneaking out.”

“Yes, of course!” The kid assured, almost squealing with excitement. If I had realized how desperate he was, I would have dangled the meeting in front of him so much sooner. 

The following morning at school, he practically sprinted to meet me at the door, eager to know what the leader’s response was.

“They said you could come,” I told him as he opened his mouth. He squealed and jumped to hug me, an action that nearly knocked me back on the hard tiled floors. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” He repeated as I laughed and ruffled his hair.

“We’ll meet at my place at 11pm— no later. The meeting starts at 11:30. You’ll be home by 1:30am. Oh,” I added, “make sure to wear your supportive sneakers because it’s a bit of a walk.”

“You got it!” The kid agreed.

Night fell quickly. The kid was early to my place, perhaps afraid he wouldn’t make it in time. We walked quietly in the brisk, rainy weather to the meeting place since I knew conversation would draw unnecessary attention. At long last, we arrived at the old, rotting shack guarding our sacred meeting room. 

“Come on,” I whispered to the kid before he could ask any questions. Around the other side of the shack was an old storm cellar. 

“Password?” A voice asked after a few quick knocks. I answered and the door was unlocked for us.

“What were you saying?” The kid asked, bewildered that the password wasn’t in English.

“We’ll teach you,” I responded. “After you.”

“A new member, Cecilia?” Garret greeted us in the foyer lit with dim, violet lights illuminating the simple decor along the walls.

“Yes,” I said, regaining the kid’s attention. “This is Ajax. He’s new in town this year and Leader said he could come for a meeting.”

“We haven’t had a new member in ages!” Garret remarked, offering his hand to the kid. “Pleasure to meet you, Ajax. Welcome home.”

The kid took his hand and uttered a quiet thank you. Garret led us to the door to the main meeting room and pulled it open, revealing the comfortably furnished space all of our discussions took place in. Members kicked back on couches and chairs or simply leaned against the wall. They pulled snacks from the long table along the back wall of the space. The walls were decorated with emblems of past members— garlands, paintings, tapestries, and every in between. Amongst the solid black robes, Leader glided across the room to us with violet embroidery adorning their sleeves and collar. 

“Lovely to see you again, Cecilia,” they said with a nod. Turning to the kid, they offered their hand, which he took without hesitation. “Welcome home, Ajax,” said Leader, echoing Garret’s same sentiment moments before. 

Leader took him to mingle with other members. Garret switched out his post at the door with another member. 

“Solid pick for a new member, Cee.” Willa’s hand rested on my shoulder as she materialized out of thin air.

“It wasn’t very hard,” I shrugged, “I just did everything you did. The poor kid was so desperate that I barely even had to try.”

“That’s my girl,” she praised, brushing a stray piece of hair out of my eyes, her gentle touch worth more than all the money in the universe.

Some time later, Leader called the meeting to begin. Silence blanketed the room as they formally introduced Ajax and gave the typical “welcome our new member with open arms” speech. They then covered daily news, updates to any terms, and checked to ensure nobody else had announcements they needed to make. From there, they switched topics to the new matter at hand: the induction ceremony. 

“As with any new member, we must perform an induction ceremony. From my knowledge, our new member is quite certain he wants to be a formal part of our family, yes?” When Ajax nodded, they continued, “The induction ceremony will include the Staining of the Ribbon, that staining being with the blood from your right hand to symbolize your commitment to our family.”

A shadow of fear crossed the kid’s face at the mention of blood. His eyes looked at the ribbons every member wore— in their hair, on their arms, on their legs, and so forth— and realization hit along with the fear. This kid was not about to back out when he’s come so far already.

“If I may, Leader,” I began. When I got the nod of approval, I cleared my throat.

“I’m sure many of us here can agree that the Staining of the Ribbon sounds daunting.” There were murmurs of agreement. “However, I’m sure those same people also remember how wonderful it felt to open your hand and see the ribbon lying in your palm, knowing you were connected with every member that was, is, and will be. Your blood staining your ribbon connects you to a family larger than life. Everybody here was an outcast before one kind member brought you home and, for that, we are to be forever grateful.”

I turned to face the kid, stepping forward and crouching to meet him at eye level. I brushed some damp strands of hair out of his face.

“It only stings for a moment. Do you really want to give all of this up, kid? Lose this family you know you so desperately want?”

His eyes glistened with restrained tears and he was silent for a moment. Finally he gave the correct answer.

“I want this.”

That seals it— there’s no need to wait for another meeting given the quickness of the ceremony. We cut the violet lights and instead take the ceremony by candlelight, our hoods up so as to not distract each other in any way. Ajax stood in the center of the circle with Leader in front of him. We watched as they led him in The Oath and the kid’s voice grew stronger line by line, knowing how much he wanted to be part of this. 

He was perfect from the start. I’m reminded of that when Leader sliced open his right palm and he hardly made a sound. His hand closed over his new violet ribbon. After some moments, it was stained the perfect red. With a nod from Leader, I stepped forward and ruffled Ajax’s hair. His smile was bright in the candlelight.

“Welcome to the family, kid.”