Bloody Princess by Helen Scott
25
Lyric
Midway through my last class of the day I get a text telling me to be at the Pi Ep house for line-up in thirty minutes. That’s barely enough time to wait for class to end. As soon as the professor seems to be wrapping up, I’m shoving all my stuff into my bag before running from the room, through the heart of campus, to the Pi Ep house.
I get there with barely any time to spare, and as I let the front door close behind me, I hear voices. Paige, Miriam, and Rachel are all standing in the formal living room talking in hushed voices. As I walk by, I give them a smile, but it only seems to anger them, making them scowl at me in turn. Maybe I didn't look appropriately terrified for the line-up? Whatever the reason is, I just ignore it and head down to the basement.
My pledge sisters are there waiting, all except Natalie. She must be running late, which isn't good since I have no doubt Paige will punish her for it.
A clock alarm goes off, and the door at the top of the stairs slams shut. Paige and two of the older sisters I don't know come down stairs, bottles in hand. Only this time, it's not wine. In fact, I have no idea what it is, though it looks a little like beer. The bottles are way too big, though. Each of them is carrying a row of bottles squeezed against their chests.
"Take two," Paige says as she comes to a stop in front of us.
We all rush forward, snatching bottles out of their hands until we are each holding the required bottles.
"Set them down and strip to your bra and panties. Line up by order of age."
The commotion that occurs then is nothing short of a scramble. All of us are getting practically naked as quickly as possible while exchanging birthdays. Our clothes are abandoned in a mess on the floor while we get in line as quickly as possible. Once we are all standing facing Paige and the other sisters, she looks us up and down and says, "Better." When she gives the other sisters a nod, they appear from the sides with rolls of duct tape in their hands.
"Pick your bottles up, one in each hand, and hold them out for Meg and Nat to tape you." Paige's instructions are clear, leaving no room for discussion, and we all do as asked.
Starting from each end of the line Meg, who is on the young end, and Nat, who is on the older end, take the tape and wrap it around our hands and the bottles, securing them in place. There are a variety of brands on the bottles we hold—everything from King Cobra to Olde English, to Colt 45.
"Edward Fortyhands. While we go through the line-up, you will drink your two bottles until they are empty. You may only leave once they are empty. You may ask your sisters for help, but they are not obligated to do so. If you need to throw up, there's a trash can over there," Paige says as she points to the corner of the room. There's a large garbage can sitting there that's dirty AF and not something I would want to touch, even to vomit in it.
"Yes, Sister," I say, though some of the other pledges use different titles for her.
Paige's gaze runs up and down the line once, then again, before she sighs as though we are the most irritating thing in the world. "Now, let's go down the line with the obvious disappointments, shall we? Two of you aren't wearing the matching bra and panties that we require. Most of you don't have nearly enough makeup on. Where's the mascara? Where's the eyeliner? Did you even contour? And then there's your hair...I don't even know where to start with that."
The lights go out, all except for that lone bulb she likes us to stand under while she assesses us individually. I don't particularly want to hang around more than necessary, so I'm busy sipping on my beer when she calls Victoria up to the light. The shit she talks to Victoria is enough to make me want to step in. I'm usually a cold hearted bitch, but I also never want someone to go through what I’ve gone through.
Midway through her tirade, Paige’s phone dings, distracting her. She doesn't check it, but Meg and Nat eagerly pull out their phones, and when they do, their mouths drop open. They both glance at me, then Meg scurries over to Paige and whispers in her ear before showing her the video on her phone. Some music plays, but she has her volume all the way down, so I can't make out the song, though I do hear the words “stupid ho” over and over again.
Her phone dings again, and I see them both stare at the phone in Meg's hand intently. This song has a different tone, and I recognize it as a popular one from TikTok, "I See Red" by Everybody Loves an Outlaw. When that finishes, she looks at Victoria, who visibly shrinks back, even going so far as to take a step away.
"Get back in line. Fix your shit." Paige's voice is cold.
"Yes, Sister," Victoria mumbles before scurrying back to her place in line.
"Lyric," Paige says without turning around.
I walk up to the light and center myself under it before I turn to face her. The glare she's giving me is next level, like she's trying to melt my face off. The only problem is I know she can't dish out anything that I can't handle.
"You think Pi Eps are sluts?" Paige demands.
"No, Sister Paige."
"Then why are you acting like one where everyone can see?" If the fire in her eyes could burn me as she spoke, it would.
I open my mouth to respond, but don't know what to say. She senses my hesitation and uses it to press her advantage by turning her phone around to show me whatever video she's just been watching. My stomach drops as soon as I see Atlas and me on the screen. I know exactly where this is going.
Within a couple seconds, I grab Atlas by the edge of his shirt and pull him down into a kiss. It's easy to see his hesitation in the video, even though I didn't really notice it at the time, but then he kisses me back. It looks like a match hitting gasoline. Suddenly, we're not able to get enough of each other, and he's got me back against the bricks with my legs around his waist.
My back twinges from the memory, and my pussy clenches with need, which is not something I'm used to at all. Before I can respond, she moves on to the next video with a swipe of her finger. "This one is my favorite."
This time it's me looking seductively at Thayer while we're out to breakfast. I know this particular video is probably thanks to my twin sister. I wish I had known what she planned on doing with it.
"Do you know why it's my favorite?" Paige demands.
"No, Sister Paige."
"Because one of your future sisters is his girlfriend. You're flirting with a guy who is already taken, after making out and practically fucking his best friend, outside where anyone could—and did—see you." She shoves her phone back into her pocket and stalks away from me, running her fingers through her hair and grasping at it like she wants to pull it out. "Do you think this is how you treat your sisters? Do you think this is how a Pi Ep acts? I don't know if it's even worth keeping you through pledging, if this is the type of sister you're going to be."
I know she wants me upset, wants me cringing away from her, but I can't make myself do that, not when I've been relentlessly trained to do the opposite. The only thing I can think of is to force myself to get upset somehow. I could think about Lyssa's death, but that usually only makes me angry, and that's the last thing I need right now since I already want to slap Paige across the face.
"Do you really think a girl like you would be enough to keep either of them entertained? You can barely stand up for yourself, not to mention your lack of poise and good taste. You dress like a slut, your GPA is barely passable, and now you're trying to hit on your future sister's boyfriend as well? Are you fucking kidding me? Minus twenty points for each video. You're at the bottom of your pledge class in terms of points now, as well. How does that feel? You want to make that shit up, you're going to have to get creative. Or do you think you’re too good to try and make up for your lost points? Do you think we’re going to go easy on you because of who you are? Because you're the Sterling heir? Because you’re a legacy? Well, you’re fucking wrong." Paige is screaming in my face by the end, and I know I need to react. If I don't, the whole situation is going to get worse. She already doesn’t like me, and this has only made her feelings more intense, evidently.
The only thing I can think of that might make me emotional enough is the one thing I try to avoid at all costs.
The memories of my mother's death.
According to the papers, she was in a car accident during a storm, but I know the truth, I'd seen it after all.
I conjure the image of the man in the hallway—his jet black hair and green eyes, the way he'd told me to be quiet—and suddenly, I'm there in the moment. I can smell the lemon cleaner that was used on the wood of the banister, feel the scratchy material of the runner that goes up the stairs under one hand, with the smooth hardwood under the other as I sit there, perched exactly where I shouldn't be, so I can see what was going on. The golden light from my dad's office spills into the hallway below, and I see him standing there, clear as day, like I've been transported not just through space but time as well. The years haven't been especially kind to my father.
The knife that the man has been holding starts to spin and twirl around his fingers. I now know that it's a butterfly knife, and I can do all the same tricks he did that night. None of it is that complicated, but to a child, especially one like I was at that time, it looked like magic. He and my father argue, and my mother pleads. With my adult brain, I can see the moment my father decides how this is going to play out, and I know that the man who murdered my mother sees it as well. No matter what my mom says, there's blood that needs to be spilled, and to my father, she's expendable, even if he did care for her at some point.
My mother offering to whore herself out for my family makes rage rise in my chest. I see the moment my mother realizes that her life is about to end, and she spends her last words making a joke about Sampson. Nausea rolls through my gut as my mother's throat is slit, and she bleeds out without my father so much as batting an eye.
The man walks away, scaring the shit out of me once more, and I'm left with the silence that follows. It's like my brain turns off most of my sensory input at that moment, so all I can do is see the world around me. I’m numb to everything else.
At least, until Sampson comes out and sees me sitting there. In my memory, I can see him notice my form on the stairs as he begins to drag my mother's body from the office into the hallway. He stops and comes to investigate, grabbing me by the arm and hauling me down into my father's office.
As soon as my father sees me, he glares at me, as though I'm the cause of all of this. "Did you see what just happened?" he demands.
I nod.
"Tell me what you saw."
I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out, fear and grief constricting my chest. That's the first time Sampson backhands me. My small body crumples to the floor in the same place my mother's had just been, and then the tears come. I'll die just like her, I know it. My stubby little fingers reach out and touch the blood that's still wet on the floor, as though it can bring me closer to my mom, even though she's already long gone.
"Lyric, look at me," my father's voice sounds from directly above me, and I turn to look up at him through my tears. He's come around from behind the desk and is towering over me like a monster, Sampson at his side like his shadow. "You can never tell anyone what you saw tonight, do you understand?"
I nod, but he can see the confusion in my face.
He makes an exception to his normal, ramrod posture and squats down so he's closer to my level. "That bad man killed your mommy. He wants to hurt our family. If you tell someone what happened, he'll come back and hurt you. Do you understand now?"
I nod again, and my chubby little hand forms a fist in the wet pool of blood that will be gone by morning, cleaned so well it'll be like it never happened.
My father watches me for a moment, not missing a single detail of my response. "Do you want to hurt that man for hurting your mommy?"
I nod one last time as a fire begins in my chest. At the time, I’d thought I wanted revenge, and to an extent, I still do. I realize now, though, that the situation is about as gray as it comes. The fire I’d thought was a need for violence was really just the burn of grief in a child who had just lost her mother—a child who had needed a fucking hug more than anything else.
"Sampson," my father says quietly.
I watch as Sampson kneels on the floor next to my father, eager to assist in any way he can. I've never liked him. He's wormed his way into our family and seems to be stuck there like a splinter in my finger.
"Lyric is now your responsibility. Train her, teach her the truth about her family and the world she's part of. Make her useful to me. Make her into the family's weapon. No one will see it coming from such a sweet, innocent face," my father says, his voice cold and devoid of emotion.
I cry in earnest then, mourning the loss of my childhood, of my potential, of my innocence. Sampson had done exactly what my father asked of him and made me into something that they can wield and use. I'm nothing more than a tool for the Sterling family, or at least, that's what I had been until I became the only heir. Now, I get a little more leeway.
A slap across my face draws me abruptly back to the present. My chest is heaving and there's a salty wetness on my lips that can only be tears. When I blink, my eyes clear slightly, and I realize that I'm truly crying. In fact, I'm crying so hard the other pledges look terrified. I know the memory didn't take long to run through, so I don't think that Paige is suspicious of my tears, but she's still angrier than I've ever seen her.
This is the first time she's been physical with any of us, though, and if I'm honest, I'm not surprised. Neither am I surprised that I'm the one with whom she lost control. I'm not sure why she dislikes me, but I'm guessing it has something to do with the meeting I saw her having before line-up started. If the guys are bending Miriam and Rachel's ears, trying to get them to force me out, that might explain it.
Paige is red in the face. Most of the other pledges are crying now too, terrified that her wrath will extend to them as well. They aren’t used to someone treating them this way, and if they thought it was tough before, what they’ve just seen between me and Paige is enough to make them legit scared. I realize that my actions aren't just affecting me, but them as well. I've never had to watch out for anyone else before.
I've been through Sampson's training, but this is different. These are girls my own age, my peers, if you want to get fancy with it, treating me like gum they stepped on with their Manolo Blahniks. If I have to worry about how my actions are going to make them treat the other pledges, I might need to rethink things. Am I really sure I can handle this?
