Page 5 of The Bloke

Nick gripped my shoulder before kicking my knees in, preventing me from falling forward. I twisted my head to glare over my shoulder and growl at him, and he hissed a “Shh.” Knowing that I had a few choice words for him.

“Protégés,” A strong voice echoed over the room, and I shifted my attention to see a man approaching us in a deep red suit with a black shirt and crimson silk tie. “Tonight, you start your firstof three tests. Pass all three without any complications, and you will reap the rewards of being a member of our secret society for the rest of your life.”This sounds like something you could put on a Hallmark card.

Three tests, easy enough; I mean, if Nick believed I could do it, then why couldn’t I? How hard could spilling blood be as long as the person deserved it?I can’t believe I am attempting to justify murder right now.

“Bring him in.” The man ordered as another was dragged into the room, struggling with a dark hood over his head.

He was dropped into a chair, his hands tied behind his back. Two additional men in black suits secure his legs to those of the chair before stepping back. I could hear muffled noises coming from under the hood, which left me to believe that the man was either gagged or had something covering his mouth preventing him from speaking—or screaming.

“William Klein—” The man continued once William was fully secured to the chair. “Owes us a pretty penny. William here took out several loans two years ago as an investment and hasn’t been able to pay a single dime back to us.” Removing the hood, he dropped it to the floor beside William, and my eyes met his watery ones—they were pleading to be released, and I shifted my gaze away from him, avoiding further eye contact.

His mouth had a dirty strip of thick fabric across it, secured to the back of his head, his drool soaking into it. It was tight enough to prevent him from any form of communication aside from simple mumbles and grunts.

“In his agreement for the generous loans he’s received from us, half of the investment was to be returned to us within the first year, followed by the second half plus interest a year after that.” He slowly paced behind William as he spoke. “What do you have to say for yourself, Mr Klein?” The man asked, taking a knife from one of the black suits and sliding it against William’s cheekto push the fabric down, cutting into his skin in the process. He already knew the answer; this was turning into a game now.

William’s eyes squeezed shut at the pain as blood began to trail down the side of his neck, soaking into the collar of his white button-up, the strip of fabric dropping to his collarbone.

“I—I can get you the—the money.” William stuttered through the pain. “T—tomorrow.” He added, blinking his eyes open and looking up to where the man now towered over him.

“Tomorrow is a year and a day too late.” He replied coolly, almost bored with this man’s pleading, before facing us and holding the knife out by the blade. “Which of you thinks they are ready to join the Men Under Revue tonight?” He arched a brow in question.

Without hesitation, I stood from my kneeling position and took the knife in my right hand. I’d rather have looked too eager to kill than not enough.

If this secret society thrived on spilling blood when necessary, I would show them I could do it without batting an eye. Sticking a human with a knife shouldn’t be any more complicated than slaughtering a pig, and I remember doing that often back on my parents’ farm.

William was nothing more than a pig as far as I was concerned.

I approached William, the man in red stepping aside to let me in closer.

“N—no. P—please, I swear I can get you the money.” William's cry fell on deaf ears as I gripped the back of his head and pulled it back, exposing his neck to me.

He was squirming in my grasp, trying to loosen my hold on him. His screams rang out in the empty ballroom, bouncing off the walls.

I was planning on taking my time with him, giving this man next to us and everyone else here a good show of just howfucked up I could be when asked, but his cries were giving me a headache, and I wanted them to stop.

I bit down on my cheek as I lined the blade of the knife against the side of his neck, and with one long, precise drag, I slit his throat.

Blood poured from his neck like a waterfall as his screams became wet and strained, his body eventually sagging in the chair as his breathing stopped altogether.

Releasing his head, I cleaned the knife on William’s slacks before returning it to the man in the red suit.

I didn’t question my actions or regret what I had just done; I wasn’t going to win any favor by showing him pity or mercy.

Rolling my neck and shoulders, I stepped back over to where I had previously been kneeling by Nick. Only this time, I remained standing; I earned that right after what I had just shown them.

“Well done, Protégé.” He snapped his fingers, and the two men in black suits dragged away the bloody and limp body of William. “From this moment on, you three are under initiation. Three tasks. Three chances to prove your worth. Your sponsors will be responsible for you until the ceremony.” He took a step towards us, sliding his hands into his pockets. “And as far as formalities go, you can call me Dustin Slate. Welcome to the underground.”

Chapter 3

Colby

INITIATION: TEST TWO.

Growing up in the countryside with a large family, you generally develop a decent amount of patience. When I left, I must have lost most of what I had learned because I had been on edge since the night Nick brought me to that mansion and I completed my first initiation test.

It had been roughly a week since the events of that night, and I still haven't heard anything about a second test.

Did I fail? Was I too quick to kill William? They didn’t exactly explain what was expected of me before or after I took the knife in my hand.

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