Favorite Crime- Bughead Story

Part 3

They began to whoop and holler, holding up beer cans and other things alike. The noise grew louder as her mother threw up her hands motioning them to quiet down. "There will be three stages. First is sacrifice, the leader will give something of theirs up for their gang. A personal belonging. The second will be leadership, the person will have to prove themselves worthy by completing a test from one of their gang members, and then the oath to protect the gang."

Bettys anxiety was threatening to break now, she didn't know what she had gotten herself into. Ofcourse it was going to be some sacrificial ritual, this was the ghoulies she should've expected something along these lines.

They began to make their way forward, closing in on her. She could smell the alcohol, cheap aftershave and sweat dripping from them. Smoke hung in the air from their lit cigarettes, most dropping them to the ground and stomping on it with their leather boots. They looked at her with mixed looks, almost scorn and taunt, but maybe it was purposeful to make her scared, maybe it was a test they came up with themselves. She stood her ground, or tried to put on a face that didn't look like she was about to have a fit.

"So your the pretty little leader now," one of them pricked a finger at her chin, lifting it up to meet their gaze. It was stone cold. She shivered and almost pulled away from his grasp but he held it firmly. "Odd." he commented, then dropped her chin roughly. Others gave her cold mocking stares before her mother made them halt again.

"Now it is time for the first task, the sacrifice." she pulled out a small pocket knife from her leather jacket pocket. She flipped it open, the sun glinted of the cool metal, the end pointing with intensity. It was sharp to be blunt.

Her mom took her side, grabbing her wrist and making her jump. "Don't move." she said, and Betty could hear the remorse in her voice as the blade met her arm. She closed her eyes and drew a breath. "Wait." she said just before the blade was about to break skin.

"You said you can give up something personal, right?" Her voice was unceratian and strained. She was forcing it to stay in control and not shake from her nerves. Her mom stopped keeping the blade to her skin, Bettys heart raced in her chest.

"Yes," she began. "But you haven't brought anything to offer them." she whispered to Betty. "What if I did." Betty moved away quickly from the knife, she could hear the collective movement of the group infront of her, but her mom simply held them back with a hand.

Betty touched the necklace she had been gifted by her father on her 14th birthday, she could feel the coolness of the metal between her fingers, and the brush of the soft crystals jagged edges under her fingertip.

The one that she couldn't live without.

She unclasped it, feeling the chain slip from her neck. The bareness of her neck feeling awkward and wrong, and part of her felt like she was loosing herself.

She closed her hand over the necklace with sorrow, giving it one last squeeze, and dropped it in her mother's hand. Her mom looked at her with a shocked expression, even she knew what it meant to Betty. She didn't question it, which Betty was grateful for; because if she did Betty would grab for the necklace and take the knife again.

"Your leader has given up a belonging to the gang, it will be placed accordingly to our leaders sacrifices!" Her mom yelled and dropped the necklace on the hood of the car with a clank.

"For your next task, you will be tested to see your leadership skills. One of your gang members will take you for questioning, and for you it will be Sugardog.