Epilogue
4 Years Ago
The world outside the building was shrouded in darkness, as nightfall began to envelop the earth while the sun bid its radiant farewell. The moon was visible in the distance, as if playing a game of hide and seek with the sun.
The two-story structure was adorned with creamy white walls, a maroon roof, and chocolate brown gutters. It was situated far from the bustling sidewalks where the cacophony of car horns was a constant.
No distractions.
Nothing!
The interior of the building was painted a deep green. It wasn't an abandoned structure, but they had intentionally given it the appearance of one. Cracks along the walls lent it the aura of a ruin, as if it were a building that had stood for thousands of years on the city's left side.
The decision to paint the inside of the building to resemble an abandoned structure implicates lots of meaning to it. It might be intended to create a specific atmosphere or mood, perhaps to intimidate or disorient those inside. This could be particularly effective in a setting where initiation rituals or tests of courage are conducted, as it adds to the sense of uncertainty and fear. The dilapidated appearance could also serve as a symbolic reminder of the hardships and challenges that one must overcome to achieve growth or success.
Inside the building, the screams and cries of neophytes being pushed to their limits echoed through the halls. Amidst the distress, there was a faint trace of laughter. Thirteen boys, all 18 years old and naked, were lined up with their eyes blindfolded. Their legs were slightly parted, nearly a foot away from each other, and their hands were protectively covering their genitals as if their lives depended on it.
"Say it one more time!" someone shouted from behind the line of thirteen blindfolded boys.
"We love Alpha Beta Phi!" they chanted in unison, repeating it five times.
"Number 1, step forward," another boy ordered from behind them.
"Yes, master!" The boy, who was about 5'7" tall and had the smallest build among them, complied immediately, panting from the blows he had received.
His eyes were completely covered by the blindfold, as if darkness was his only refuge. Laughter echoed throughout the room as his body visibly trembled.
"Which one of those idiots behind you do you want to quit?" another voice from the back asked.
The boy didn't respond to the question, and another blow landed on the back of his thigh. He hissed, gritting his teeth as the wooden paddle made contact with his bare skin. Another powerful strike hit the back of his thigh, causing him to scream out loud. He wanted to curse and lash out at the one who had hit him, but he managed to restrain himself.
"Answer!" another voice demanded.
"No one, master."
Another powerful blow landed on the back of his thigh, causing him to hiss again. His face was etched with pain, beads of sweat rolling from his forehead down to his chin, while he protectively held his genitals with both hands.
"Who are your friends among them?"
"No one, master," he replied. If he wanted them to survive, he had to betray them once, and they would have to betray him again for their own sake. Even though two among them were unaware, he still answered with a lie.
“Liar!”
The sound of the man's hand striking his cheek nearly deafened him, but he remained standing. Did he just slap me? He questioned himself, receiving his answer when he felt another slap, this time on the other cheek. Great! He's slapped me twice.
"Did your parents teach you how to respond when someone asks you a question?" The stern voice of the man speaking into his right ear sent chills down his spine and made him shiver.
Before he could answer, he felt three successive powerful strikes on the back of his thigh, causing him to hiss louder and harder. He nearly cried out from the pain.
Three hours later, his legs were numb; his voice had grown raspier with each passing moment. Each contact of the wooden paddle with his bare skin elicited a scream that seemed to tear from his very soul. He could feel the warm trickle of blood seeping from the wounds on his thigh. Teetering on the brink of surrender, he thought of his closest friends behind him. He couldn't bear to leave them to face this torment alone, so he resolved to stand his ground and bear the agony of the hazing.
