Risen by Lauren Barnholdt, Aaron Gorvine

for YouTube. Just like Cody said Jay would do if he had the chance.
    “Are you fucking with me?” I try to smile. Maybe he’ll laugh and admit that they tried to pull one over on me but I caught on too fast.
    He shakes his head, almost sadly. “You’re disappointing me. bro. Just get out of here. Go on.”
    But I don’t want to go scurrying out of the room like a little bitch. If I tell him what he wants, it will all be easier. “Wait a second. I just got caught off guard,” I tell him. “I’m ready for anything. I’m in.”
    “And you realize that the only way out of this thing is death?”
    But now I’m scared all over again. I can’t seem to answer.
    Jay comes around the front of the chair and looks at me, the candlelight casting dark shadows on his face. He looks menacing, cruel even.
    “What did you think this was?”
    “I don’t know what this is. You haven’t told me.”
    “I’m giving you a chance to be part of something special.”
    “But what is it?”
    “La Cosa Nostra.”
    “The mob?”
    “Our version of it,” he smiles.
    “So this is—what—some kind of initiation?”
    “Oh, you are the smart one. Yes, Richardson. It’s a freaking initiation ceremony.
    Now can we get on with it?”
    “But it’s not real, right?”
    “Oh, it’s totally real. I’m dead fucking serious.”
    “I wish you’d told me ahead of time, so I knew what to expect.”
    “Kind of defeats the purpose, though.”
    “Yeah.” I run a hand through my hair. “Well, I don’t know. What will we be doing?”
    “That’s enough discussion. You need to decide if you’re going to do this or not.
    If you can’t hack it then leave.” His face is hardened now. A real ice grille. I understand what an amateur I am with my fake-ass cold stare. It’s nothing compared to Jay’s.
    I take a deep breath and then exhale. “I can. I can hack it,” I say, as much to myself as to him.
    “Then answer the fucking question already.”
    “Okay. I’m ready.”
    “And you realize that the only way out of this thing is death?”
    “Yes.” I feel sweat beads break out on my forehead.
    “Now you must prove your trust in me,” Jay says. He turns and takes the gun off the table. “I’m going to put this gun to your head and pull the trigger and you’re going to sit there and let me do it without moving a muscle.”
    My heart is hammering in my chest. Is that a real gun? Christ, is Jay totally crazy after all? Would he kill me tonight--has this been his plan all along? What if he made a mistake and didn’t unload all the bullets? There could still be one in the chamber.
    I should try to run but I’m paralyzed. It’s like a slow-motion nightmare where I can’t move or even talk.
    He raises the gun. I’m shaking like a leaf and the chair is jittering on the floor.
    The muzzle of the gun is pressing against my temple and I close my eyes because if this is where it all ends, I can’t bear to watch.
    “Moment of truth, Richardson,” he says.
    CLICK.
    There’s no gunshot. Jay lowers the weapon.
    I exhale violently and flop forward. “Jesus Christ, Jay. Are you insane?”
    “One last thing, Richardson. You’re in the home stretch now,” he says. “Hold up your hand,” Jay says, and I do so.
    He places the gun back on the table and picks up the knife. It gleams dully. “Oh, shit,” I say.
    “It’s almost over” he soothes. He grabs my wrist. “Hold out your pointer finger.”
    I do so, gritting my teeth and wincing in advance of the pain I know is coming. He cuts across the tip of my finger and a moment later, the blood starts to flow from the wound.
    “Shit, that stings,” I hiss.
    Jay takes the square piece of paper off the table now, and holds it under my bleeding finger. I see that it’s a small picture of a saint. The blood drips onto the picture and Jay smiles.
    “This drop of blood symbolizes your birth into this family. Now we are one until death.” He puts the corner of the picture into the flame