Wreck enters the room, carrying a black rooster. Tonight he’s wearing face paint again and a wolf’s skin on top of his ranger clothing which gives him a close resemblance to a real shaman. He leads me outside and we walk toward the edge of the village. The cool night air helps to clear my mind, although I’m still a little groggy after sleeping. A crowd of rangers stand around in a solemn silence, all eyes directed toward me.
“The initiation is sacred,” Wreck whispers. “Everything that happens tonight is done for you. So you’ve got nothing to worry about while you’re unconscious, all right? If Ace and his friends show up and try anything, the other rangers will kill them.”
We walk through the crowd and arrive at the entrance of a small cavern. Inside, the underground air smells of smoke and water. There are weird symbols drawn with red paint on the stone floor and walls. Five fires burn along the corners of the walls, illuminating everything in an eerie glow. Wreck directs me to sit down in the middle of a large pentagram drawn on the ground. He plops down in front of me, still holding the rooster in one hand and a knife in the other. Placed beside him are flasks, an empty bucket and some long thick roots.
“Remember the purpose of your journey,” he says solemnly. “You must find your spiritual guardian. Don’t let demons intimidate or confuse you. That’s your journey. You have all the control.”
Anxious, I listen to the sound of his voice, my teeth chattering.
“I’ll be here to remind you of which world you belong,” he continues. “I’ll lead you back to reality. Do you trust me?”
I hesitate to answer. How can you trust someone who once held a knife at your throat? One who hallucinates at night and is so unpredictable.
“I trust you,” I lie.
“Here’s the Deathfall,” he motions toward the roots. “Once it enters your bloodstream, we won’t be able to stop the ritual. The effects will last for hours. I need you to understand that.”
I take a deep breath. “Let’s do it.”
“Fine. Remove your jacket and t-shirt.”
I do as he requests, now having on only a sports bra and pants. Wreck lays the rooster on the ground and chops off its head. The headless body jumps up, frantically flapping its wings and running around in crazy circles. I watch its agony, feeling detached and numb. Once the rooster finally falls, Wreck picks it up and sits back down in front of me. Whispering something incoherent, he uses the rooster’s blood to paint odd symbols on my arms, stomach and face. It’s creepy.
Then he cuts a small piece of a root and places it on his palm. “According to our tradition you must take the Deathfall from my hand. It symbolizes how the responsibility of providing you with the correct dosage of the root lies solely on me.”
I lean in, snatching the piece of the root with my mouth. I grimace from the bitter taste.
“I know, it tastes like crap,” Wreck says sympathetically. “Just try to swallow it without too much chewing.”
Nauseated, I force myself to swallow the root. My stomach lurches. I clamp a hand to my mouth, suppressing a gag reflex. Wreck takes a piece of Deathfall himself, his eyes becoming instantly glazed over. He stretches out his hand, urging me to take another piece. I take a gulp of air, steadying myself, and eat more. The sound of drums and a wolf’s howling come from outside. I feel hot and dizzy, beads of sweat rolling down my face and neck. The cavern spins in front of my eyes. The flames and symbols on the walls begin mixing together. I lean forward, gagging and shuddering. Wreck places the empty bucket in front of me and I throw up.
“That’s a normal reaction,” he says calmly. “Here, wash out your mouth.”
He gives me a flask and I take a few sips of water, then close my eyes. I don’t want to do this, I think desperately. Gosh, I can’t eat any more of that stuff. But I have to.
I swallow another slice of Deathfall root, again throwing up in the bucket, then wash out my mouth. Rinse and repeat.
I wind up lying on my side, my stomach aching and head dizzy. I feel sick… so terribly sick that I realize I’m dying. Wreck raises my head, putting more of the root to my lips.
“Just a little more,” he whispers. “You’re doing real good.”
I shake my head no, pressing my teeth together, tears flowing down my cheeks.
“Kora.” Wreck gazes at me, his eyes now pitch-black from the drug. “Remember why we’re doing this.”
My destiny. I must meet my spiritual guardian and learn my destiny. I open my mouth, letting him feed me more of the Deathfall.
“She’s waiting for you,” Amy says.
I flinch, looking around in panic, my heart jumping in my chest.
“Easy now,” Wreck holds me down. “It’s all right. The spirits are present.”
I want to scream, want to stop everything and get out of this cavern. But my body is slack and I can’t move. The flames from the fires dim. Dark entities begin to creep toward me. I try to push Wreck away, try to scream, but only a wheeze comes out and…
…and I’m lying on my back in complete darkness. I attempt to sit up but my head strikes a hard surface. I’m inside a coffin, buried six feet under the ground just like my mother.
I scream. I pound at the wooden surface above me with my fists, feeling claustrophobic and suffocating. “Help me! Get me out of here!”
Somebody grips my hand and for a moment
