Despite my misgivings, I agreed. How bad could one initiation ritual be? It didn’t mean I was swearing eternal fealty to this organization.
▶ Okay.
“You don’t know how pleased I am to hear that. Follow me.”
Leaving the meditation room, der Schlächter lead me into the large kitchen. The goons trailed behind hesitantly but obediently. I also noticed several of the masked guards joining us.
Nice kitchen. So, was this sacrament some form of meal? A holy feast?
“Disrobe.”
▶ What?
“I INSIST.”
Der Schlächter spoke with such force, such command that I found myself instantly obeying, shedding every layer of armor. A masked disciple quickly gathered the pieces and placed them to one side. I stood naked, wanting to cover my private areas from the many watching eyes but having nothing to cover.
Was that some sort of special skill he used? An overwhelmingly high Persuasion stat?
I was naked. Now what—a juvenile hazing routine? Were they going to take turns spanking me with a paddle?
“Very good. Now lay down. HERE.”
Der Schlächter lovingly ran his bare hand over a large wooden platform, or table. I looked from the table to him and back again, hesitating.
“This won’t take long.”
▶ But I…
“I INSIST.”
The next thing I knew I was lying naked on the long wooden platform. The leader smiled fondly at me and ran a hand through my black hair.
“This will be your first step to true awakening, little one.”
He nodded to two of his masked disciples who were at my side in an instant, lashing my arms and legs to points at the bottom of the platform.
▶ Hey! What are you doing?
I strained against the bindings. This was not what I had agreed to!
“Calm yourself. Breathe. Do not give into fear.”
Above me, hanging from the ceiling, I noticed several large meat hooks.
Oh no. Oh no, oh no! I do not like this…
The disciples who tied me down disappeared then quickly returned, wheeling two heavy contraptions behind them. I twisted my head, trying desperately to see what they were doing.
Meanwhile, der Schlächter slowly unrolled a black bundle on the spacious countertop.
One disciple slid a needle into a vein on my arm, connected by a plastic tube leading to one of the machines. The other attached electrodes to either side of my head.
▶ What is this? What are they doing!?
“This first machine there is so you will not bleed out. The second is so you will not lose consciousness. You will not want to miss a moment of this.”
I was pretty sure I did.
▶ Stop this. Please, stop this. Just let me go. I don’t want to do this anymore. 1,000 Crystals? Keep your Crystals! Keep the 100 Crystals too!
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
The leader shook his head, a sympathetic expression. The folds of skin on his hairless head wrinkled with deep and genuine concern.
“I am setting you free.”
To my horror, he held up a large meat cleaver.
I cried in terror, writhing against the bindings. The Serpents stood solemnly, witnessing the unfolding ritual.
Then, bringing the blade down in a sharp motion, the man chopped my foot clean off.
I screamed, and screamed, and screamed. But there was nobody to save me.
▶ WHAT THE FRAG DID YOU DO TO ME!?!
The masked disciples leaned over my ankle and applied a tourniquet above the severed round bone and vascular, exposed flesh.
Horrific pain exploded up my leg. I felt dizzy, like I could pass out. I WANTED to pass out. Please BOG let me pass out!
A subtle electric shock at my temples jolted me back to the present moment.
“Do not run from this. Embrace it,” the monster repeated in soothing, dulcet tones.
The others stared at the scene, not daring to look away, although I sensed the one called Buzzcut would rather be anywhere else in the metaverse right now.
I slammed my head back on the platform, tears coursing from my face.
I thought the worst was over. I was wrong.
Der Schlächter brought my severed foot, dripping with blood, to his mouth. And he began to eat it.
▶ No! NO!
I tried to shut my eyes, to look away. But a Serpent knelt behind me, wrenching my eyelids open painfully with their fingers and forcing my head in the direction of their sick master.
“If I do not eat your flesh and drink your blood, you have no part of me,” the master intoned.
His large white teeth tore through the outer layer of skin, ripping it off in strips which he masticated and swallowed. He moved on to the muscles, tendons, and ligaments, chewing greedily and sucking the meat off the exposed phalanges bones. Sucking the fluid from the metatarsophalangeal joints.
▶ YOU’RE SICK! YOU’RE INSANE!
I wanted to vomit. I tried to vomit. But that was impossible.
“Let go of your preconceptions,” the man cooed. “None of this is real. None of it. This foot? Not real. Even your perception of pain is an illusion. All of this is simply data, information signals beaming through the network of your brain.”
I struggled against the hands prying open my eyes, fought against the cords binding me. But I had no strength to fight. Blood pumped into my veins from the machine, replacing that which spilled across the floor of the kitchen off the butcher’s block.
▶ PLEASE! PLEASE STOP IT. I BEG YOU!
“I cannot stop until you let go. Free your mind from the confines of your limited perception. Understand that this is nothing more than ones and zeroes. Ones and zeroes. You must break through the illusion to find TRUE POWER!”
As he spoke, he held up the partially devoured foot near my face. My own fragging foot. The navicular and cuneiform bones protruded from the raw meat.
Ones and zeroes.
Ones and zeroes.
▶ Ones… and zeroes…
I tried to repeat it like a mantra. Tried to focus on something, to attach my mind to anything other than this living nightmare.
Through the opening in the front of der Schlächter’s kimono, I watched the two snake tattoos from his back slithering across his skin, coiling about his formidable chest and belly. Impossibly alive. The ouroboros—the self-devouring serpent.
“The first step towards apotheosis begins with accepting reality. Want a bite?”
▶ NO!!!
I spat at the man. He just laughed, not bothering to wipe the saliva from his face.
“Even your spittle is nothing but bits of code. Completely artificial. But we seek something greater than The Collective can offer. Together, we will TRANSCEND all limitations!”
His followers were becoming energized, riled up by this sermon.
“SERPENTS RISE!” the masked disciples chanted in unison.
I simply laid back on the table, sobbing helplessly.
As he gnawed on the joint cartilage and sucked the final bits of meat off my skeletonized foot, der Schlächter belched and daintily dabbed at his mouth with a linen napkin.
Against he rested his large hand on me, this time on my bare chest. There was a tenderness in that touch completely at odds with the horror that had just been inflicted on me.
“This was a hard experience for you. I know. Believe me, I know. But it was for your own good. To open your eyes to the truth. Now we can at last welcome you into our family. You need not be an outsider to our cause any longer.”
I said nothing—could say nothing. My body trembled uncontrollably. With rage? Shock? Adrenaline?
“Now I offer you a choice. We can replace your lost appendage. Improve it. Transcend the flesh. Or we can send you back to the Restoration Point, where you may be reborn whole.”
Quivering, with tears and snot covering my face, I looked over at the Serpent goons. I realized that each of them was missing body parts. Razor’s lower jaw was entirely chrome. Buzzcut had a metal hand. There were similar parts and pieces missing from the others, and that was just what I could see above the clothing and masks.
No way. I wanted no part of this. No Serpent chrome would touch my body.
▶ Kill me…
Der Schlächter leaned in close.
“What was that, my child?”
▶ Just kill me. Please… kill me…
“As you wish.”
The disciples removed the tube from my arm and the electrodes from my head. My footless bleeding naked body lay strapped to the butcher’s block. Exposed. Vulnerable. Powerless.
The butcher raised his cleaver high above my neck, then cut off my head with a single downward stroke.