Page 32 of Her Devil

We spend time together. We laugh. We joke. We find out the good things about each other, and some of the not so spoken about things. We learn to start to trust each other a little more than we did before. So, when the engines rumble outside and the bell goes at exactly seven o’clock on Friday night, the anticipation that tumbles around the room is electrified.

Two black SUVs are waiting for us, engines idling as we’re directed to the back. I climb in with Tamsin and Penelope, Aimee, Charlotte and Stephanie getting into the lead car as we lock up and pull away.

“Erm, isn’t the party at the house?” I ask as we drive straight past it and head down the driveway. “Come to think of it, weren’t people supposed to arrive from half seven… so, where the hell are we going?”

“Maybe you misread it?” Penelope offers as she looks out the window nervously.

The door locks engage with an ominous click as the driver calmly explains, “There’s a meeting before the event, ladies. Nothing to be worried about.”

Yeah, because isn’t that what all serial killers say?Nothing to worry about…

Tamsin and I share a look, this is not what either of us had in mind. This is supposed to be a fun night out, not an awkward drive to God knows where in the dark. But we don’t have time to contemplate the upcoming change of direction as we’re swiftly pulling down a dark lane not ten minutes later, following the tail lights of the other car.Well, at least we’re going out together.

We pull into the car park of some old huge building, a church of some kind. It would look ancient and dilapidated if it weren’t for the lights on inside and the group of people standing at the side of the building. As we climb out and the car doors close, they stand to attention, one on either side of the door and one coming to meet us.

Charlotte’s giddy giggle echoes around the empty space, and for the briefest second, I wish I’d dropped a pin in the location on my phone whilst we were in the car, it would be way too obvious to do it now.

The six of us huddle together against the chilly evening air, lifting our skirts to keep the trains from landing in the dirt.

“Good evening, Angels,” a man calls to us from the middle of the car park, gesturing for us to join him. He’s shrouded in darkness, tall and wearing a black mask, something glittering down one side. My steps falter and Stephanie titters, clearly amused by the interesting turn of the evening. “Thank you for joining us, you all look beautiful. They’re almost ready for you.”

Masks.

Us.

They.

The excited anticipation of the afternoon twists in my stomach, unease creeping back in, morphing through anxiety and into fear.We shouldn’t have come here.

This isn’t a party venue.

No music blasts through the building, and as he leads us to the doorway, the heavy wood being pushed open worryingly quietly, I hesitate. But there’s nowhere to go. A graveyard archway stands to one side of the building, nothing but trees on the other, and as I take a peek over my shoulder, the two drivers are following us, now wearing simple black masks matching the two beside the door.

There’s nowhere to go, except onwards.

Attempting to push down the panic does nothing to quell the unease that seeps through every pore. Tamsin takes my hand in hers as we enter the building, the sound of voices not far ahead of us as we make our way down a cold damp corridor and through a vestibule before entering the main church building.

Our guide pauses in the doorway, holding us in the darkness with the security behind us for just a few breaths before announcing us and entering. The light is blinding as we step into the main church. Almost sightlessly, we follow him to a patch of carpet covering the engraved stones on the floor, attempting to give my eyes chance to adjust to the light.

I want to look around, to put off the inevitable, I want to absorb every nook and cranny of this place before I can finally take in whatever we’ve found ourselves in the middle of. Something with men in robes and masks. Nothing good.

But all too soon, someone is clearing their voice in front of us. A man. Another man in a mask and a robe. “Well, ladies, that is perfect timing. Thank you so much for joining us.” I’d like to think he smiles, the voice familiar but I can’t seem to place it. “The Angels of Pendleton Prep, let me introduce you to The Devils.”

He steps back, waving his arms open as my gaze lands on almost a dozen men suited and booted, black masks covering their faces with red, silver or gold veins threaded through them. The hair on the back of my neck raises as I turn my head, a crowd of robed people loitering where the congregation would once have been.

Some are disinterested, gathered in small groups paying little to no attention to what transpires on the stage, but there are plenty front and centre. Here for the show. Whatever that might be.

Stephanie shivers with excitement beside me, her excited anticipation a far cry from where my head’s at right now. There’s no way we’d make it out of here if we needed to. No, we’d die here if that’s what was decided.

“I’ll keep this quick,” the compare continues, as our guide disappears into the waiting crowd. “I don’t want to make you late for your own event.”Yeah, because this sure as hell isn’t it.“The Angels and The Devils of Pendleton prep are the elite, the cream of the crop, so to speak. But then, that’s no surprise really, is it? You, ladies and gentlemen, are going to make history.”

He pauses, taking a drink from his glass before perching it on the altar and looking our way. “So, now you’ve officially been introduced, let’s get you paired up for the evening, shall we? There’s a little disparity between the numbers at the moment, but I’m sure that will be dealt with shortly.”

The words fall ominously from behind the blank mask, the robes he wears not helping to ease any of the anxiety rushing through my body.What the hell have we found ourselves involved in?

“You get a choice here, ladies. You should take it whilst you can,” he says.

There are a million things I want to know before I make any such decision. What is the expectation here? Is this a date, a relationship, a team that we’re becoming? Or is this just a night out with a nameless, faceless man in an impeccably tailored suit?

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