It's the next morning as I wake up bright and early to the buzz of my phone's alarm under my pillow. After brisky shutting it off, I turn over to see if Dallon is still asleep. His back is facing me, so unfortunately, I can't tell. I get up as quiet as I can, slipping into my pants and throwing on a shirt. After I put on my shoes, I walk to the door and carefully open it. My eyes glance in Dallon's direction and, thank the fucking lord, he's still asleep.

As I walk to the library I think, sure, it seems pretty ridiculous that I'm treating this like some spy operation, but Dallon kept me in his sights for the rest of the day yesterday and even tried to ask me questions. Personal shit. All whilst looking like he could snap my neck if I said something wrong. Course that could have been my anxiety talking since Pete's words seeped back into my brain.

I open the tall glass door and walk inside the library. Once again, it's fancy as hell. I look around the room and there's several rows of tables sitting in the center before the endless rows of bookshelves expand towards the left. There aren't many students around, so I manage to spot Pete near the back of the room. I walk over to his table and sit on the opposite side facing him.

He looks up from his work, slightly startled by my presence, "Hey Brendon-"

"Tell me about the club." I say.

"Whoa, keep it down," Pete says, lowering his voice while hunching over the table to get closer to me.

I move in closer as well, beginning to feel a bit giddy.

Pete continues, "We can't talk about it here, okay?"

"Okay." I nod.

Pete closes his book before standing up. I follow suit. Before we leave, a boy wearing a hat with blonde lengthy sideburns walks over. He looks at me for a moment before turning to Pete. Pete tells him he'll be right back before signaling me to follow him. We head out past the quad and eventually loop around to the outside of the school's perimeters near the parking lot.

Pete faces me, taking a deep breath, "You want to know the truth, but I'm warning you, it might be difficult to handle."

I cross my arms, "I can handle a lot. Surprise me."

He steps closer to me, "You should take this seriously. Hell, I don't even want to say anything, but it would be a bigger risk if you keep prying anywhere else."

"I wouldn't do that, I'm not stupid." I say, a bit quieter this time.

"Right, well I'm not gonna get mad at you for wondering. Just, don't take this lightly."

"Okay. So, what's so special about this club?" I say, feeling impatient.

Pete takes another long breath, "The club- it's a kill club. They've all taken lives. Dallon is taking interest in you because you're his roommate, and as of late, they've been trying to force people in."

My chest feels heavy, "Holy shit."

Pete says, "There isn't gonna be an easy way for me to get you out of this."

"When did this club even happen?" I ask

"Well, the school was formed in the late 1800s," Pete starts, "a few average years went by until the headmaster's son killed someone. A group of students were forced into cleaning up the mess, but they were chosen rather specifically. They were either close to dropping out or were considered the misfits of the campus. This was all done under the headmaster's orders. This ultimately formed a kill club called The Scarlet Society."

"That's fucked." I say.

"Yeah, but after the headmaster died, the club had reached certain compromises and they had to become a bit more secretive. Eventually, the club started to dwindle and the organization wasn't up to par. Some people left, got killed, or killed themselves. The club soon enough ended after all the sketchy years of fucked up students trying to keep it alive and failing. It wasn't till last year when a new headmaster and his son got onto campus."

"The son being?" I ask.

"Ryan Ross." He replies.

Well shit.

"He dug into the history of the school somehow and managed to restart The Scarlet Society. He lets like-minded folk in, but recently he's been forcing people, like I said. You're in or you're dead regardless of which way you slice it. Given it's only been a year, you'd think he wouldn't push for more members. And with the actual acts of murder today, it's been tricky for them with the campus police, plus the question of whether or not the Headmaster knows. Ryan claimed he scared his father into letting him do the things he does, but he can boast."

"Pete, how the hell do you know all this?" I question, still trying to process all of what he just said.

"I used to be in the club." He says.

"What?" I exclaim, "How the fuck-"

Pete shushes me and I take a second to recollect my thoughts.

I continue, "You said you're either in or you're dead. How the fuck are you still standing here?"

Pete looks to the floor and rubs his neck, "That's a story for another day."

"God." I rub my temples, "This is..."

"Insane." Pete replies.

"Yeah, pretty fucking much! So Dallon did most likely kill his roommate, that's fucking delightful." I say sarcastically.

"It's a lot, but now you know. The best thing you can do is distance yourself. If they attempt to coerce you anymore, just ignore it. Decline their offers. At some point, you may be able to switch dorms. To be frank, an escape plan is a long shot, but I'm willing to help as much as I can."

"Did you try to help Dallon's previous roommate?" I ask. And I can tell what his answer will be. Somehow, I want the reassurance of failure.

Pete nods with a sad look in his eyes, "It's not easy, but I'll be damned if I don't try. And if you want to keep your sanity and your life in check, you'll help yourself as well."

"Well, I can't promise you shit." I say honestly.

"Brendon, c'mon-"

"You can't promise my life, like, what the fuck. You believe that they'll let me go? You just told me they've never done that."

"If you don't try to step right in, there's a chance they'll back off. Okay, I swear I'll fucking figure something out. Just, try for a while at least." Pete's eyes are pleading.

"Okay." I say with an inevitable nervous tone.

Pete tells me he needs to finish his work as he heads back to the library. I slowly start to walk back to the dorm.

I check my phone and there's 20 minutes before the first class. I gnaw at my bottom lip as I slowly open the door. Dallon is absent from his bed as I hear the shower running in the bathroom. Fuck, he knows I left. I go over and sit on my bed. All of Pete's words are hammering against my skull. My body starts to feel tense as I grip the edge of the mattress. My breathing starts to pick up and I begin to feel warm. I close my eyes and attempt to bring my breathing down. I reach towards the mini shelf and bring out my journal.

Entry 1

In the case of a potential panic attack, here are my words messily written across this page in an attempt to cease my anxiety. Fuck me, fuck my life, and fuck this school. My roomie is a fucking psychopath, there's a fucking club filled with murderers, what the fuck. It's only day one and here I am stuck in one hell of a situation. I don't know what I'm supposed to do. I could listen to Pete and not say shit. How well could that turn out? Dallon will kill me. Right, pessimism shouldn't be a thing. My father is a realist and my mother is an optimist. The best excuse is I'm still going through the phase in my life where I jam to Sunny Day Real Estate, sweep my bangs across my forehead, and contemplate death. There's a sprinkle of angsty poetry here and there with the resonance of rebellion. It's gloomy all day everyday even when the sun is out...

The door of the bathroom opens and Dallon walks out with wet hair in a pair of boxers. My eyes cast up and down his body for a second before I say, "Hey roomie. Dallon."

"Brendon." He says, walking over to his bed before sitting down and going through his drawers.

Before I continue writing, he says, "You went out this morning."

"Yeah, I'm a real morning person. Just wanted to walk around for a bit." I lie.

"Oh." He finishes.

I go back to writing.

Somehow glancing at my almost naked psychopath roommate further helped diminish my potential panic attack. Weird. Ryan is crossing my mind again. If I did resist this, I wouldn't get to talk with him. Granted, he kills people, but... that couldn't just be it, he's human. Here I am trying to be a wishful thinker and weighing my options against Pete's plea to keep me sane. My father always told me that if I want something, I should try to get it. I haven't seen the blood on their hands yet, and who knows if I'm totally sane. I used to laugh at people dying in horror movies when I was a kid, that has to be fucked, right? I'm not going to force myself into something dark like this, in fact there's a side of me that's terrified. Still, if I set a goal that isn't completely crazy, that could ease my thoughts through this. Ryan, my goal is Ryan. This pursuit is so out of my league, but what's fucking new. I'm not going to run. Pete must be wrong in some ways, and I'd rather pull off the bandaid now.

I close my mind and let my voice take over, "Dallon, when do I join The Scarlet Society?"

He turns around and looks at me with a fairly surprised expression, "How did..." he pauses, "Soon. Very soon."

I nod in response, and that's all I can do. My heart won't stop pounding.