The Battle of Life and Death

Museum

～Ace～

"Why do we have to be the ones to initiate the new guy?" Phoenix complains while rubbing his hand down his face, agitating me with his feigned annoyance. I know he's not really annoyed because that's not the happy-go-lucky person Phoenix is.

I look at him with a stern look, making him chuckle at my creased eyebrows and down-turned lips, "You have to because you're new to this coven, and I am the oldest person who hasn't yet inaugurated anyone. Plus, the elders told us that we are to be a part of the same brotherhood, weren't you listening?" I explain our unfortunate predicament with a hint of annoyance in my tone and a roll of my eyes.

Phoenix, however, picks up his pace into a long stride, forcing me to quicken my pace as well. "Oh, yeah, I forgot about that. After tonight, it's going to be just us three against the world!" He exclaims with child-like joy, but also with a hint of sarcasm. Someone's either eager to get this started or over with. I, personally, prefer the latter.

I really don't understand why I have to be the one to be out here with this idiot, and the new guy. I am the oldest clan member. I should automatically have an out of this. Alas, our elders were very persistent with me accepting this job. Or rather, force me to complete this task.

Currently, Phoenix and I are approaching the museum where we are to meet our newest member, Bowie. I'm not entirely sure how I'm going to handle this situation, so I guess I have to follow Phoenix's pace.

Why do I have to share the same ties as these baby wizards? Why was I even born to be a wizard? Who are my parents? Where are my parents? Why do I have to participate in the joining of our powers? The same inquires can be said for every other member of the coven, but these questions keep me awake at night. So many questions, never any answers.

Finally, after a long and boring three-hour adventure where neither Phoenix nor I have spoken more than ten words to one another, we finally make it to Franksville Museum For the Criminally Insane. What a cliche name, considering it's a museum providing knowledge about famous killings. Ted Bundy, Jeffrey Dahmer, and John Wayne Gacy are just a few examples.

Walking up to the door that's dimly illuminated by the overhead lights in the ticket booth area, Phoenix asks, "How do we get inside?" As he asks, he grabs ahold of the door handle and gives it a stern push, causing it to jam and not open. I look around and notice a small sign above the handle, that shows a diagram of an arm pulling a handle instead of pushing. I look at Phoenix with an "Are you a fucking idiot?" expression as I pull the door, and it opens with ease. "Oh, I guess that's how," he chuckles and walks ahead of me while raking his right hand through his messy curls.

I mutter under my breath, "Dumbass." He doesn't hear it, as I was intending him not to. After my declaration of the obvious, I silently follow behind him, neither of us questioning how the doors were unlocked.

Inside the building, we can hear the faint hum of the lights, making me realize that we're actually doing this and are about to have a new member of our pact. I cannot express how unpleasant it is to be in a group full of brain-dead men that want nothing more than to have as much power as they can possess.

I mean, I understand the need to be in control and have all the power, but what I don't understand is why they need others to do their bidding. Aren't they man enough to do it themselves? When I'm in control, and that is quite frequent, I don't use others as a fucking slave.

As I'm inside my head, pondering my escape before the function even begins, I notice a tall, slim, but sturdy, backside of a black-headed man. This must be our guy; Bowie. As Phoenix and I are approaching, he whispers to me, "He's gotta be hot. Hopefully, he's hot. He's gonna be hot," he rambles while I silently roll my eyes at his blabbering.

I clear my throat when I'm the first one to reach his back. Swiftly, he turns around with a wide grin on his handsome face. Phoenix was right, he is hot. He reaches his hand out for a handshake, which I grasp firmly in my own. The handsome man clears his throat and says with a husky, southern accent, "Hello. My name is Bowie," our hands shake, and his grasp is just as strong as his build and as stern as his voice.

Just a mere whisper of his voice could get my cock hard. I am not fond of it.

"Hello. My name is Ace and this is Phoenix. You must be our new pledge brother?" I grit out through my teeth, trying to get my rising hormones under control. This physical reaction to a simple human trait has never gotten me so worked up before, even at my own inauguration.

"Yes, I am your new pledge. It is nice to meet you, Ace and Phoenix," I suppress a groan at the way my name rolls off of his tongue. As I look over at Phoenix, I notice he has the same reaction as me.

After he somewhat composes himself, he rushes out, "Hello. It is nice to meet you, too." He runs away to the other side of the small manager's room to compose himself even further.

How does his puny presence affect us so much? Why do I feel the same way toward Phoenix now? Wait, what? Towards Phoenix? There's absolutely no way I feel the same way about him, he's a goddamn idiot. But an idiot I want to tie down and fuck for days.

After what felt like an eternity, Phoenix finally finds the courage to trot back over to us to make a small conversation, "So, Bowie, how old are you and why did you decide to meet us here at this old, crappy museum?" After he says this, he physically shutters as if an unwanted presence collides with his body. Or, maybe, it's because he's too horny to do anything else.

"I'm 26 years old as of a week ago. I thought it was finally time to settle down and join a coven. My dad was a wizard and my mom is a witch. And as for the museum, I don't know, I've always wanted to do it in public and this place just won't let me leave it for some reason," I notice the way he said was and the way he looks down at his feet when he mentions his father.

I don't notice, however, his own bulge poking through his pants. Maybe he felt ashamed rather than upset about mentioning his parents during our current predicament? I mean, I sure as hell would, too, if I knew who my parents were and spoke about them while on the verge of cumming in my slacks.

What is with the atmosphere in this damn place? I now understand what he meant by can't escape it. It's almost a suffocating place. I don't want to leave it anytime soon, either. I've never been so aroused in my life just looking at these two men. And I think I can say the same by the way Phoenix is twitching and his very obvious erection, and by the way Bowie's cock is damn near about to poke our eyes out.

Thankfully due to this timely attraction, our joining shouldn't be too unpleasant.

Why do I hate that revelation? I think it's because I didn't sign up to be these guys' mentor. I also feel like there's a part of this awkward triangle that is missing, but I cannot quite put my finger on it. Maybe it's because we haven't joined powers and blood yet. Or maybe it's more of a physical need? Whatever it is, I want to get out of this place as soon as possible so that we can all just calm down.