Before I knew it, Monday had rolled around, and I was biking to the address on the paper from Edgerton. I couldn’t decide if I was nervous or had to pee real bad. Ya know, it was probably both.

It took me forever to find the freaking building. It didn’t even have the address on it. The structure looked to be some kind of old warehouse, the only defining feature, besides limp sheets of siding hanging at odd angles, were illegible faded block letters. Neither were helpful.

I parked my bike along the wall of the half-collapsed building, the siding shivering as I sent up a silent prayer that the bike’s weight wouldn’t bring the whole thing down. I tromped through the deep snowdrifts to the door, if you could call it that. The place was obviously abandoned. No one had cleared snow from the entrance, and not even a single footprint was to be seen. A worm of doubt wiggled its way into the back of my mind. With a shake of my head, I dislodged the thought. No, this had to be the place.

The door itself was a simple hunk of gray metal on rusty hinges covering a hole in the wall. So, I guess it had the bare minimum qualifications of being a door. Regardless, I pulled that sucker open. To my surprise, it didn’t make one squeak, not even a shudder. Huh, I thought, looking it over more carefully. Odd. Especially since it seemed so old.

I poked my head through the opening and glanced around, the murky darkness of the interior a high contrast to the bright winter landscape behind me. Using the dim light shining through the fiberglass windows above, I could vaguely make out the other side of the building. There wasn’t much in there. Nothing, to be a bit more precise.

I stepped through the door, letting it close gently behind me. “Hello?” I called out. “Anybody around?”

Nothing. Just silence and the whine of the wind. I crept further into the building, my slow breathing following every step. Doubt wiggled back in with the quiet. My eyes weren’t yet adjusted, but I glanced down at the sheet of paper in my hand anyway, squinting to make out the dark symbols. Yeah, that’s this address.

I spoke up, cutting through the silence, “I’m pretty sure this is the right address, and by no means am I too early for anyone else to be here. Actually,” I glanced down at my watch and pressed the light button, “I’m reasonably late.” I waited, looking around for any movement, any whisper of sound. Still nothing.

“Hey!” I barked out. “The least you guys could do is respond to me when I busted my butt to get on my bike iN tHE MiDDle oF CHRISTMAS BREAK!!! And ride over here.” I listened to my voice reverberate around the empty space. “Fine, losers. I’m going home. I’m too depressed for this.” If they weren’t here, then I wasn’t going to be either. I’d call my parents, and that’d be it.

As I turned to leave, three dark shapes dropped down to surround me. I was shoved into a chair that hadn’t been there a moment ago, zip-tied to it, and then sucker punched in the gut.

I groaned in both pain and shock. And I guess I didn’t have to pee.

I lifted my head, patience absolutely gone. “What the actual bean turd.” A punch crashed across my face, and stars bloomed across my vision. (Pardon my language) “Damn, you guys are assholes,” I spewed, my world now vibrant.

I was hit from the other side, except this time, it wasn’t a fist, it felt like a glove or something. I couldn’t tell. All I felt was the sting. Spit dribbled out of my mouth. I glared up, still more pissed than scared, just now in pain as well. “You absolute rusty carpet. What the h-e-double hockey sticks is your joy deprived problem?”

My breath billowed hot and fast. I searched the darkness for those three demented shadows, so ready to reap my vengeance, despite the fact that I was stuck to a very heavy chair.

Then a voice on my right spoke above me. Edgerton. “Welcome to day one of your training.”

“For what?! Stalin’s Russia?” I spluttered, my face tender and throbbing. I never bruised easily, but this might be a bit hard to hide. “What? Are the KGB gonna come knock on my door tomorrow night and beat the crap out of me before stealing my I.D. papers and throwing me in the Gulag?”

“You are weak, insubordinate, and lacking discipline. That will change today. By the time Christmas break is over, you will be well on your way to becoming a skilled member of this team.”

Oh now I was going into orbit. “You listen good and well, turd bucket. No one gets to insult me. Especially cowards who lurk in the shadows.”

Have I ever told you about all the times my mouth has gotten me into trouble? No? Well, let me show you.

I continued, “And who says I even want to ‘become’ one of you. I just want to graduate and get—”

A hard, slender object, probably a baton or something, slammed into my midsection, just below the ribs. I screamed out, unable to stop myself this time. Were they seriously trying to kill me? Some of my ribs were most definitely bruised now. I was an athlete, they couldn’t be doing this to me.

I coughed some air into my lungs, swallowed down the nausea, and tried to figure out how in high water I was going to get out of this one. I’d been in my fair share of school yard beatdowns, but I was a little outnumbered here. Not to mention, the professional nature of my company.

One of the Red Pathways dropped to the floor in front of me, and a hand surged out of the darkness, gripping my chin and pulling my entire body up so that the zip ties dug painfully into my wrists and ankles. I breathed deeply through my semi-clogged nose, trying to stay calm.

I didn’t know what to do, really. I had a few ideas, but none of them would probably pan out how I wanted them to. I decided on the ‘stay silent for a bit and see what happens’ strategy. Maybe it’d get me somewhere.

My reflection in the red-tinted snowboarding goggles stared back at me for like seventeen point eight seconds, then I was released. My body thawumped back into the chair, my wrists raw and on fire. And as a lovely addition, my fingers felt like a fuzzy TV screen, all prickly and confused. So there I sat, silent for just a little longer.

Ya know, I heard somewhere that silence can be really uncomfortable for people. I’ve never personally had a problem with silence, but by staying silent, you can get people to talk about stuff they normally wouldn’t, just to fill the gaps in the quiet. Or something like that. I don’t know. I know about the size of a gnat’s eye socket when it comes to psychology. But… by golly did it work. Thank you internet strangers, thou witful wyrm.

There were now two people standing in front of me. I couldn’t quite make them out with the black masks and red glowing goggle things on their faces, but, based on the one’s hulking silhouette, I’d say one of them was Edgerton. And the other was probably Takahashi, since the knife they held looked mighty shiny and mighty familiar. The knife in question was at my throat in an instant.

“Now, Jade Hornet, no marks, remember. There must be no easily noticeable evidence.” That one came from the unmoving mountainous shadow.

“Certainly, Pointed Storm,” said Takahashi or Jade Hornet or whatever. Her voice had turned raspy, like sandpaper across wood. Excitement shortened her phrases, as if she could barely keep herself composed from the anticipation.

Her knife moved faster than I could process. I jolted when I realized what might be happening, incoherent words jumbling from out my mouth in anger and panic. She pulled the fabric of my clothes away from body and sliced off the bottom half of my flannel jacket and t-shirt, the remnants hanging like a bedraggled scarecrow left out all winter.

The muscles in my throat tightened. Okay, not what I thought she was going to do. But now I was out a winter coat and a decent shirt. I shivered as the cool air hit my stomach, the knife hovering just above my skin.

I kept my breathing light and shallow. Exposed and vulnerable, I wasn’t going to let them think they’d won.

“Ya know,” I giggled stupidly, “when they say ‘get involved’  in college I don’t think this is what they meant.”

Jade Hornet hissed, “You stay quiet unless given permission.”

Well, when had that become a rule? I stopped questioning it with the cold press of metal upon exposed skin. I sucked in a breath and squeezed my eyes shut, tensing for whatever was to come.

The tip of the knife dragged three lines into my skin near my hip. Heart hammering in my chest, not sure why this was even happening, I forced myself still against the hot pain. The cuts were narrow and slow, but deep enough that they were definitely going to scar. With the deliberate nature of the knife, I was guessing that was the point.

My mind went back to this weekend. When everything still seemed marginally okay. Watching Christmas movies, going to church, cleaning the apartment, missing my family, making snow angels, recovering from a hard-fought semester. Now, I was very far from it.

My mind and body were awash with an agonizing sting. Tears pricked my eyes, but I refused to cry. Refused to prove I was weak.

“Enough, Jade Hornet,” Edgerton murmured. “Remove your weapon.”

The knife was pulled away, deftly cleaned and sheathed in one smooth motion. I breathed a little easier, but with every breath and micro-movement, it felt as if the knife was still there. I closed my trembling hands into fists, pain molting into something new as I gazed up at what could only be demons in human form.

“We just wanted to give you a proper welcome to the Red Pathways,” said Edgerton, her lilting voice ever calm.

I replied with gritted teeth, “Well, that wouldn’t be my version of a warm welcome, but do go on.”

She continued as if I’d said nothing. “Those cuts will heal. It is the symbol of the Red Pathways and marks you as one of us. These next few weeks will be most trying for you. You will need to prepare yourself for what is to come. There will be more pain, there will be more blood, and there is no way for you to avoid it. What will be done, is done for your good, so when you emerge, you will be a force to be reckoned with, armed with the abilities to carry out your mission with practiced perfection.”

I nodded along with her speech, teeth clenched tight against the ache. “Ha ha… ha. Yeah, ya know what? I don’t want anything to do with literally any of that. Pretty pissed you permanently marred my body, and I’m pretty uncomfortable with what’s happened so far. Isn’t there an easier way with no pain or like, any kind of difficulty? ‘Cause that kind of stuff really doesn’t fit with my schedule.” My voice hitched as a wave of agony crashed through me. I could feel blood seeping into my waist band. “Could I take a raincheck or maybe just no check? Actually, I’d take a bandage. I mean, I knew you guys were a conceited bunch from the beginning but dang, maybe tone it down a bit.”

Edgerton sneered, stepping forward, encompassing my vision.  “You don’t seem to understand, so let me make it clear. You will do everything we want you to do,” she growled. “You made a deal with us, and we expect you to hold up your side of the agreement, or we won’t hold up ours. I’m going to assume you’re intelligent enough to know what that means.” She glanced behind her, and my gaze followed hers to where Jade Hornet was cleaning one of her knives. Well, that definitely didn’t sound good. Nope. Not a tad bit. “Now begins the interrogation.”

Neither did that. Oh, fiddlesticks.

They didn’t have to be as rough with me as they were. I would’ve given them the stupid information about Kyle that they wanted. It’s not like any of it was that important. All I could tell them was when he was at the apartment and when he wasn’t, and how long we’d been sharing an apartment. But because of our strained relationship, I didn’t know much else.

They asked me questions about his family and other more personal things. I couldn’t give them anything. We’d never talked about stuff like that before and anytime it did come up, he got snappy. ‘Course they didn’t like that, and demonstrated that to me quite nicely with their favorite method: pain.

I was so frustrated, because ninety-one percent of the questions they asked me were things that I didn’t even know about my best friends, but that didn’t matter to them. I think they enjoyed my pain more than any answers I could give them. How’d these guys manage to be disguised as professors at a Christian college all this time? Didn’t anyone notice their sick, sadistic natures?

What a hot mess I was in. And somehow, I was expected to keep all this a secret or they’d kill my family, then my friends, and then me after having me watch every single one die. On top of that, they’d rip away any means for me to be successful in life, let alone graduate college.

The only option left was to do what they wanted. Which I would be more willing to participate in if it didn’t involve getting beat up every other second.

And if that wasn’t enough, there was the mission we’d agreed upon, should I choose to continue. HaHA! Except there was no choosing involved. Well, I guess there was, but seeing as I now knew their deepest secrets, I wouldn’t still be here if I declined their kind offer. Looks like we had a lot more ‘getting to know each other’ to do. Somebody grab the champagne.