Initiation

I hate parties Brooke Adams thought, growing more and more uneasy as she approached the elaborate estate. She wished she hadn't agreed to show up to the ridiculous costume party in the first place. That is, until Heather made her an offer. An offer she couldn't refuse. Her new best friend had promised to make her part of the Diamond club. Who could resist that? Every senior this side of Angel View Lake wanted to be part of the all prestigious girls club and only the coolest girls showed up for initiation held every year on Halloween.

Brooke froze the moment she spotted Lucy Barnett. From a distance she watched as Lucy pranced and flaunted her red-sequenced devil costume for a group of lusty male admirers. Unfortunately for Brooke her first encounter with the gorgeous brunette two weeks earlier hadn't gone over too well.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Lucy sat seething watching Brooke take an empty seat at their ‘private’ lunch table. Rumor had it Lucy was livid when long-time boyfriend Jimmy Stanford offered to walk the new girl to gym class. Glaring behind dark shades Lucy slowly removed the glasses from her face revealing the hypnotic emerald eyes.

“What?” Brooke hid her intimidation with quick sarcasm “Did I need to make a reservation?”

“It’s off limits!” Lucy roared, her wild eyes blazing with fury “and so is Jimmy Sandford.” she warned, strategically circling Brooke like a lion fixated on its prey before devouring it.

Brooke could of sworn she heard a growl as she grabbed the bottled water and half-eaten sandwich. “Okay Mufasa.” Her eyes darted around for the nearest exit.

Lucy stood stoic, the half-unbuttoned Fair wick Academy maroon blazer slightly open revealing the classic Rolling Stones tank top underneath. “Remember,” she whispered; the dainty stilettos bringing her to at least five feet seven and a full three inches taller than the pretty blonde girl. “You’ve been warned.”

Brooke shivered at the memory, now worried if this was the best place for her to be tonight. She stood for a moment gathering her thoughts. She wished Lucy wouldn't recognize her at all tonight. Maybe she could just blend in with the group of drunken nuns that were trailing close behind her? Finally with the last ounce of courage and without further ado, Brooke adjusted the white, feathered wings, straightened the silvery, satin dress and placed the sparkling halo onto her golden locks of hair.

White burning candles lined the long, creepy walkway. Dripping blood on make-believe tombstones littered the once pretty garden that now resembled an old abandoned graveyard. Brooke took a deep breath, climbed the stairs and stepped through the web-covered doors. Music blared loud as Janet Jackson's black cat rang out over the enormous speakers mounted above. The great room was filled to the brim with colorful characters from all walks of life and Brooke could 't keep from laughing when she witnessed Freddy Kreuger sharing a beer with Michael Myers. Meanwhile, Count Dracula and his three brides stole the show as they battled it out on the dance floor with Elvis Presley and Tinker bell.

“M-E-O-W” someone purred dramatically.

Brooke turned to face Heather Jenkins who was decked out in a sleek black leather cat suit. It was obvious she'd been drinking when she nearly tripped over her own tail.

“You're late!” Heather yelled over the crowded room. “I thought for sure you were going to chicken out!” she took hold of Brooke's arm and lead her straight over to the bar.

A scarecrow danced his way behind the counter,

“What'll it be?”

“Two shots of tequila!”

“You got it!”

Enjoying the music, Heather danced in place and swayed side to side before taking a seat at one of the shiny, leather bar stools, her manicured nails tapping in perfect rhythm to the beat.

“So what's all this initiation stuff about?” Brooke asked taking the empty seat next to her “Remind me why it’s absolutely vital to be part of The Diamond Club would you please, miss-make-shit-happen Heather!”

“It's about being part of the in crowd!” Heather sprinkled some salt on her hand and gulped down her shot of tequila in one fast swoop. “It's about being the best!” she set the shot glass down hard. “And let's face it, you didn't really start off on the right foot if you know what I mean.” Heather was painfully blunt. “At this point you need all the help you can get to redeem that pathetic social status and reputation of yours. It’s basically in free fall!” Heather shot mercilessly.

“What?” Brooke murmured casting her eyes to the floor. “The incident with that Lucy girl? Don't remind me.” Brooke said slightly embarrassed. “And anyway, like that's ancient history right?” she shrugged nonchalantly. “Totally like so last week.” she gave a dismissive wave of her hand, already feeling the agony of defeat slipping away into oblivion. “So back to the real reason were here, The Diamond Club!”

“You're are up for it right?”

“What kind of question is that? Of course I’m up for it or I wouldn’t be here. What? Are they going to try to make me eat a live chicken or something?” Brooke grossed out suddenly envisioning the disgusting thought.

“You have no idea.” Heather's voice trailed off. For a moment her mood seemed to turn dark and serious as she glanced off into the distance. Brooke thought she detected something strange in her friend's voice. Something subtle yet unsettling. Suddenly out of nowhere a group of witches approached the bar from the opposite side of the room. They were being led by none other than the malevolent beauty herself, Lucy Barnett. She was stunning in her red sequined devil costume. And what's worse? She knew it.

“Well, well.” Lucy sneered as the group of girls came to a halt, forming a semicircle behind her. “What have we here?” she eyed the two girls from head to toe. “What a darling cat suit Heather.” Lucy grinned sarcastically pretending to be impressed. “And you!” she swiftly pushed a pitch fork into Brooke's angelic face. “You must be what the cat dragged in!” A roar of laughter erupted as Cinderella's two ugly step sisters agreed. “So.” Lucy took a step forward, inches from Brooke's face once again. “I hear you want to be a precious diamond?” her hauntingly beautiful emerald green eyes peering through dark, long layers of bangs that fell gently around her face.

You’ve got to be kidding! Brooke wanted to run, Lucy in charge of initiation?

“I-I guess” she answered timidly, knowing she would be the biggest looser if she backed out now.

“You guess?”

“Well...I mean of course.”

“Yeah? Then prove it.” Lucy took the last drag of her cigarette and blew the smoke into Brooke's face. “Meet me in the graveyard in twenty minutes.” She demanded. “And not a minute later.” With that she tossed the cigarette butt into an almost empty drink and marched out the door.

That old familiar sense of dread began to settle over Brooke again. “Maybe we should just forget the whole thing?” Brooke coughed and waved the stench of smoke away from her face.

“No!” Heather suddenly replied, “Lucy tries hard to intimidate, but it's all just part of the game!”

“I don't know about that.” Brooke said wearily. Although she had never cared much for alcohol, she was grateful for the shot of tequila in front of her now. She gulped it down as if it were a glass of water then hopped of the bar stool. “Do or die.”

The midnight moon cast dark shadows over the cold make-believe graveyard, but the chilly night air did nothing to dampen the girls excitement and anticipation. Rebecca Stevens

had just arrived and quickly hurried over to where Lucy and the rest of the girls had gathered, her lavender, silver mermaid scales shinning bright in the moonlight as gold glitter sparkled pretty on her flawless, porcelain skin.

“You forfeited your position. What are you doing here?” Lucy demanded an answer from Samantha Gray who had accompanied Rebecca.

“I’m just along for the ride.” Samantha held her hands up in a surrender position. “I’m staying over at Rebecca’s for the weekend.”

Lucy gave her a steady glare before zeroing in on Liv Tilton.

“Did you bring it?'

“Yes.” Liv gave a mischievous smirk.

“Give it to me.”

Slowly Liv pulled the dagger gently from its bag and handed it to Lucy.

A look of confusion then fear crossed Brooke's face.

“What is that?”

“She doesn't know?” Rebecca shot Heather a look.

“Know what!” Brooke began to panic “What's going on!” she demanded to know.

“Shut up and listen!” Lucy instantly snapped, standing inches from Brooke's face once again. “How bad do you want to be part of The Diamond Club? Now is your only chance. If you blow it, you'll go back to being poor little miss nobody!' Lucy's icy glare shot like daggers into Brooke's face. “Decide now!” Lucy demanded. “What's it going to be yes or no?”

Brooke hung her head in silent submission.

“That's more like it” Lucy said after a moment. “Now listen, first things first.” Her voice now only a whisper. “Not everyone makes it through initiation.” she stood facing the diverse group of girls that consisted of seasoned V.I.P. Royal Diamonds to desperate wanna-bes. Lucy then turned to Brooke. “But that doesn't mean you won't make it, does it? We'll soon get to see what you’re truly made of.”

The lights from the party had long since faded as Brooke Adams, along with the rest of the girls obediently followed Lucy down the long steep hill that lay just beyond the back yard. Tree branches sprung out like creepy arms, reaching for Brooke coaxing her deeper and deeper into the cold dark woods. The only sounds heard; the leaves beneath the girls footsteps, and the flowing water of Shadow Creek that trickled downhill towards the dark lake below. They ventured further and further into the pitch black silence. Brooke's heart raced the pounding so hard she thought for sure it would burst from her chest any minute. She desperately tried to catch a glimpse of Heather among the dozen or so girls that followed, but it was far too dark for her to make out anyone's face. Instinctively, she knew better than to call out to anyone now.

Up ahead in the distance, the huge redwood trees seemed to part, allowing for just enough moonlight to illuminate the eerie old run down cabin that appeared to be at least a hundred years old. An old barn owl perched high above the trees hooted ominously as if to warn the spectators below of some dark, looming prophecy yet to be revealed. Lucy walked ahead of the others moving closer to the cabin. She held up the candle. Broken glass lay in pieces on the ground along with some rotted wooden boards that lay scattered around the old run down cabin. Brooke stood with a fear she'd never known.

Lucy's voice pierced the silence. “This is where the journey ends for us.” she said to the dozen of girls who had marched like loyal soldiers to the beat of Lucy's every command.

“Brooke.” she continued, her red devil horns appearing to glow with the flame of the single lit candle, “as part of this year's initiation, your mission is to spend the rest of the night in

there.” She pointed to the house. “Alone.” she emphasized.

Brooke thought she heard someone gasp.

“You’ll need this.” Lucy slowly held up the menacing dagger and a large wooden cross then handed it to Brooke. “Believe me.”

“What the hell are you talking about!” Brooke quickly objected letting the knife fall to the ground. She felt dizzy as her head entertained thoughts of horror, feeling like she was going to faint any minute.

“You’ll see” a sinister smile crept across Lucy's face, making her appear every bit of the devil she was. “You’ll see.”

The dark hooded figure circled the old abandoned house, stopping to peek through the broken window; the special night vision glasses making it possible to see through the darkness. Brooke Adams the figure seethed silently. Sleeping so peacefully, she really did look like an angel. So innocent. So sweet. The dark hooded one drifted closer now, moving quietly undetected through the cracked open door. How easy it would be to take out the pretty angel right here. Right now. Instead the figure lingered a moment. Brooke didn't deserve to be part of such an elite group. Who did she think she was? She didn't even deserve to live. The dark figure retrieved the sharp dagger that lay on the ground beside her. Raising it over head, in a deliberate and swift motion, the dagger came down hard piercing through the feathered wings and into the angel's neck and back leaving her no time to defend herself. A moment later, the pretty angel lay in a pool of her own blood, the white satin dress and feathered wings tainted a deep, dark red. Rest in peace dear, sweet angel.

Twenty Years Later

The cold Vermont chill seeped into the cracked window forcing Heather Jenkins to pull the covers all the way up to her neck. The thunder storms the late-night news predicted arrived right on schedule as the pouring rain slammed down hard against the pretty lakefront home. Bolts of lightning lit up the darkening sky causing Monty to succumb to looking more like a frightened puppy than a protective Labrador.

“It’s okay buddy, it’s just a storm.” Heather pat the top of Monty’s head trying her best to reassure him. “It won’t hurt you.”

Monty planted a slobbering kiss onto her face before quickly retreating to the safety in his corner of the room.

“Don’t feel bad, I can’t sleep either?” Heather whispered, her voice still hoarse from the cold she couldn’t seem to shake. If that wasn’t bad enough she could feel the promise of a migraine creeping up on her too. The night stand clock read only 2 a.m.

Despite how lousy she felt, Heather was grateful for the down time. Especially after her long days in court in recent weeks. The settlement had been fair, and she was satisfied with being awarded the pretty Victorian style home, which she now found herself alone in. Her ex-husband, Eugene didn’t seem to care one way or another. His only concern was his squeaky-clean reputation and whether she would say anything or spill the beans about him. That’s your little secret. Heather sighed, reflecting back on her unannounced visit to his office which left her in a state of utter shock that faithful afternoon. Faithful. Heather was suddenly amused by the word.

It started out like any ordinary day when the call came in. It was an associate with New Horizon Literary Agency excited about Heather’s recently submitted manuscript. She was new to the literary world and still reeling from the phone conversation when she hung up. Her hard work was paying off finally and she was on her way to becoming a published author soon.

Heather pulled into the parking structure of the Holdings Professional Building where Eugene’s law firm was located on the fifteenth floor. Excited to share the good news she hoped they could celebrate over cranberry-turkey Monte Christo's. Skye’s The Limit - the lovely five-star restaurant located on the roof top of the same building - was extraordinary and a favorite hot-spot for brunch with its to-die-for eggs benedict and prime rib with succulent trays of fresh crab all offered on a daily basis. Their main attractions, besides the delicacies of dishes served there was the magnificent panoramic view of the city life. It was exceptionally spectacular during the Christmas season with it’s blinking lights and snow covered shops below.

She entered the waiting area and whizzed past several clients who waited on black, leather couches and made eye contact with senior partner, Jacob Stanley who was busy taking a call and waved her in. Heather smiled with a nod, rounded the corner and stopped in front of Eugene’s office door. She wrapped on the door twice before letting herself in. Within seconds, a shocking realization hit her like a ton of bricks. Suddenly engulfed in an avalanche of emotional turmoil, Heather stood dumbfounded as she witnessed her husband of five years fully engaged in a steamy, passionate kiss, completely unaware of her presence at the door. What intended to be a happy surprise visit for him, quickly became a startling surprise visit for her. Eugene’s personal secretary - a woman she only knew as Kim - was actually a man whose real name was Jim! Eugene had made it clear to her – in so many words – that he didn’t want the publicity. But Heather had no intention of disclosing anything about his secret liaisons. Or his personal preferences. That’s for you to figure out Eugene. Lord only knows how long he had been engaging in his extracurricular activities. But she was cautious not to make the situation worse for him or herself. Truth be known, she was frightened of him. Eugene had a violent temper and one things for certain, Heather didn’t want any bit of drama. None. Nada. In fact, she wanted nothing more than to get as far away from him as possible.

Trying her best to put the recent ordeal behind her, Heather was determined to move forward. To turn over a new leaf. A new start. Right off the bat, she was ecstatic about the immediate changes the divorce would bring to her new living environment, starting with the absence of over-bearing, toxic cleaning products she felt abused by every morning! This welcomed relief was nothing short of a miracle and reason enough to have filed for divorce years ago. The harsh odors that invaded her poor nostrils used to make it virtually impossible for her to even breath at times. Thanks to Eugene’s egotistical pride, his obsessive-compulsive disorder went untreated and had him scrubbing down everything from counter tops and door knobs, to cupboards and picture frames endlessly with an obscene amount of disinfectant all before eight a.m.! And Maria comes once a week! Why? Who needs a house cleaner when they have Eugene? His disdain for germs, dirt and anything disorganized was enough to send him over the edge. Especially when Heather made a last, ditch attempt and approached him about getting a dog.

“Have you lost your mind?” Eugene snapped, firmly planted behind the huge, oak desk. “Dog? As in fleas? Fur? Drool? Poop?”

“As in Loyal. Protection. Security. Friend?” Heather seemed to shrink under his piercing gaze.

“A dog….” he mocked, shook his head and gestured towards the door. “lock it on the way out.”

Heather glanced over at Monty, proud of her recent decision to rescue the yellow Labrador, even though the shivering dog still seemed frighteningly fearful. You’re not the only one, she thought, a sense of uneasiness despite the presence of Monty continued to permeate throughout the whole house. Oddly enough, it seemed to intensify after getting the protective lab.

Gazing out of the kitchen window, Heather shivered, a blanket of thick clouds casting a menacing shadow over the dark, dreary lake. The roaring thunder and fierce gusts of winds that whipped against the entire property like a Tasmanian devil, the blasting noise so loud, it amplified throughout the house, bouncing off the walls of the great room, dining area and patio too. Strange, as if a fluke of nature, the ferocious storm went momentarily silent. Dead silent. There it is again. She hated admitting it to herself. A disturbing, odd feeling, dare she even think it, evil, seemed to creep over her. Snap out of it Heather! That’s when she heard it. Faint. Fleeting. But there was no denying it. What was that? Heather spun around suspiciously surveying her surroundings and fully expecting to see someone standing there. There was no one.

As if on cue, the merciless storm that seemed to wage war even against itself, swiftly resumed with the same intensity and momentum until the wild, crackling thunderous noise made it virtually impossible to hear anything at all. Especially not the steady, stealth-like creaking sound of the closet door closing in the master bedroom down the hall.

Heather filled the kettle with water and placed it onto the stove. Opting for some ginger tea was a far better choice for her aching throat than the usual cup of coffee she regimentally started with every morning. Maybe moving back to Bluestone was a blessing in disguise. She reminisced about days past and the fond memories she’d made with friends. They were an intricate part of her world and the besties were never apart. Fourth of July picnics, summer BBQs, movies, parties. It was the best time and Heather was surrounded by them. Until senior year. Until the horrible incident. The one that left her mortified, the meaning of friendship forever changed.

That’s the past! Heather scolded herself when her attention was suddenly drawn to the small pile of mail she had carelessly tossed onto the granite counter top. Yesterday had been so hectic and instead of sorting through the mail like she usually did, she instead committed to finishing up the final draft for Larry Johnston, her newly assigned literary agent – never anticipating it would take all evening and after showering and grabbing a quick bite to eat, Heather was surprised to find it was already well past eleven when she exhaustedly plopped her head onto the soft, down pillow.

The crimson red envelope with its gold trim lining sat at the top of the pile of mail and stood out like a crown jewel, the words shimmering pretty with the fancy, glittery font giving it a sort of royal announcement type feel. She held the sealed envelope for a moment, running her fingers gently across the top before sliding the gold blade of the letter opener through it. It read:

You are cordially invited

to Fair wick Academy’s 20-year class reunion

for the graduating class of 1997

Reception Dinner Friday, September 18th

at 6:00 p.m.

The Gold Room

444 Bluestone Hotel & Resort

Nothing but the finest for the Ravens! A looming sense of fear and guilt had reared its ugly head once again as Heather remembered her years at Fairwick Academy. She promised herself she would never return. Never return to her home town of Bluestone. The heinous murder of her best friend Brooke Adams during senior year had shaken her to the core. It had shaken the entire town. The guilt had plagued her and weighed heavy on her soul. Being back in Bluestone only stirred those memories again. The darkness associated with that group of girls. The exclusive, most prestigious group in all of Fairwick. The one. The only. The infamous. The Diamond Club.

Heather seemed to be in a trance, her hazel eyes lingering over the invitation a moment longer before carefully slipping the delicate invitation into the crisp, crimson envelope. She placed it gently into one of the three drawers of the kitchen island she stood at, her slow, calculated maneuvers making her seem as though she were returning it to some secret vault for safe keeping.

Two steps forwards twenty steps back. Heather struggle against an invisible enemy. An enemy she could never seem to win against. Just when she thought it was safe to move forward, those dark shadows came sneaking up to snag her back to the past. She desperately wanted to believe the years of therapy and hard work she had done was not in vain. It was different now. She was different. With hard work, Heather had over overcome so much and according to her psychologist, Dr. Tabitha Samuels, she was a well-rounded and contributing citizen of society.

Half-heartedly Heather convinced herself there was nothing a nice, long soak in the jacuzzi couldn’t cure. At least I have this brave Labrador to keep me company. She felt none the safer truth be known. But she was grateful. Even if the sweet Labrador began whining for the past ten minutes. Annoyingly, it grew louder and louder much to her dismay.

“Hey you. What is it boy?”

Monty turned to face her, but his gaze suddenly shifted to something moving behind her before purposely making his way down the hall.

Heather tipped toed some ways behind him watching intently as the yellow Labrador sniffed the ground in front of him like the canine duck detective he used to be in his younger years. Monty disappeared into one of the rooms. Shit. Heather cursed herself for not having her pepper spray nearby. Wait! Wasn’t there an extra one in the kitchen somewhere? Just then a loud bang blasted through the air and the distinctive sound of Monty’s low growl filled Heather with dread before it abruptly stopped. The knots in her stomach tightened as she willfully inched herself closer to the doorway where Monty had disappeared a moment before. Timid, she peeked her head around the corner, scanned the room and stepped inside.

“Monty?” she whispered her eyes darting this way and that. “Where are you boy?” she asked when her foot struck the broken wooden picture frame laying on the marble floor. Next to it Heather spotted the broken crystal vase and stopped herself in a nick of time, avoiding a chunk of glass that would’ve made a nasty wound in her foot no doubt. That’s when she heard it. The slight creaking noise coming from her Master bedroom.

She followed the creaking sound. Oh where the hell did he go? She felt both flustered and frightened; her heart pounding with sweat dampening her shaky palms. A far cry from the once head-strong, dare-devil, try-anything-once teenager she once was.

Heather wasn’t alone. She could sense it. Someone was here. Her instincts told her so. All she knew was to get the hell out of there. To get the hell out of there fast! She turned to run when suddenly the black and white Persian cat flew out in front of her making her loose her balance before coming in for a perfect landing onto the cold, marble floor.

“Oh, my god!” she screamed and crouched down; her arms instinctively covering her head. A moment later, visibly shaken, she regained her composure, fixed her hair, and straightened out her robe of the invisible wrinkles that weren’t there. “There you are!” She said, standing poised yet feeling foolish, watching the thick tail sway regally as the cat circled in and out through Heather’s ankles in a perfect infinity formation.

“Meow”

Heather knelt to pet the mischievous feline. “Well, it’s finally nice to meet your acquaintance again Boots.” She gently stroked the top of the rescue cat. “Well you must be hungry by now?” she reached into the bottom cupboard to retrieve the Meow Mix and poured a healthy dose of the chicken flavored cat food into a bowl while the white fancy feline with the four black paws waited high atop the refrigerator like an entitled, royal queen.

A half hour later after feeding the gold fish, picking up the broken pieces of glass and sending out a few emails, Heather found herself happily submerged into the hot jacuzzi; multiple streams of warm water jetting out in all directions soothing her achy muscles instantaneously. The healing effects of the hot tea had kicked in, soothing her scratchy throat and she finally gave herself permission to relax. Plush white towel had been prompted up and used as a neck-braced-pillow allowing for Heather to lean her head back comfortably along the side of the jacuzzi. Even her migraine seemed to subside, allowing her to take a much-needed nap. Nap. Sleep. Rest. Something Heather had taken for granted before the darkness. A darkness that made her want to stay awake forever. Never sleep again. But, a moment later a slight snooze escaped from her soft breath as she drifted peacefully off to sleep.

The unmistakable clickety-clank sound approaching her from behind, made its way across the marble floor. So much for peaceful slumber.

“Monty, is that you boy?” a moment later she blinked her blurry eyes open as Monty came into view and plopped down directly across from her.

“What’ve you gotten into this time?” she asked, watching him gnaw on something that appeared to be a piece of paper. “Come here boy.” Monty’s ear perked up and he made his way slowly over to Heather. He dropped the shredded note and averted his eyes to follow something that suddenly caught his attention. Again. This time his whimpering had turned into a low, menacing growl. His ears peeled back close against his head.

“Don’t you even think about chasing Boots again mister! The two of you have already made a ruckus of my room!” she unfolded a piece of the shredded paper and gasped in utter shock at what she saw.

The loud shrilling scream came before a horrid gurgling sound escaped from Heather’s mouth, kicking her legs wildly in desperation, thrashing water everywhere in the fight for her very life. Moments later, complete silence. Her body, limp. The once invigorating and inviting whirlpool of water with it’s refreshing jet streams of blue and white bubbles was now eerily silent, a crumbled, torn photo of five smiling teenage girls lay floating next to the lifeless body of Heather Jenkins.