This is really just the first preliminary draft of my story before the entire thing actually came to a perfect idea. But here it is: a story of a wolf version of the Maze Runner.
She was just a sixteen year old girl when she'd been abducted and sent to live as the only female wolf in the world of danger, with killers and beasts at every turn. Will her savior open up to her and save her, or will she be yet another to bite the dust?
Chapter One
My name is Victoria, was my last thought. I had no sense of who I was, besides that lone thought that came; no other lingered past that. A box was what I was in. I fought the urge to scratch at that box and fight my way out, but surely whatever was out there was much tougher than me if they had me in this thing. The box was silver; whenever I touched it with my hands, my fingers ached and my body spasmed. All I could do was stand while this box moved to a place I had no knowledge of. All I knew was that I am Victoria, and apparently allergic to silver.
Wherever I was going, I thought of possible outcomes that would occur when the box came to a stop and arrived at its destination. Maybe I was a wanted criminal who was so dangerous, they had to keep me contained on the way here and I bumped my head, that's why I can't remember anything. Maybe I'm a subject for a test, and I just happen to have the certain qualities they're looking for and need.
I started thinking; what was weak around silver and was helpless when it was around? Suddenly I felt like I was flying, but the reality was the box was tipping. The silver container hit a metal floor with a thud, the back of my head and my body crashed against the silver, sending the ache through my bones. The sound of grunts soon echoed in the box, a few loud cracks followed by a slightly more deafening boom.
"Is someone there," I asked with a low voice. "Somebody help," I said a bit louder.
There were soon a cloud of whispers and mumbles, a few more grunts, and I felt like I was flying again. The box must've been lifted, I felt movement around me. When the box hit the ground again, something was touching the lid, something with metal claws. With another final grunt, the lid came bursting off, a variety of colors invading my eyes; a beauty to see after being stuck in that dank, silver disaster.
When my eyes came into focus after being astonished by the beautiful color, I noticed I wasn't alone. There was a clump of boys around me, about twenty in the back and three in the front, all in a semi-circle. And then, there was the boy who'd opened the lid. He stood tall above me, almost to the point that his face was towering above the giant box. He was broad, his skin a beautiful light russet coated in a thin gloss of sweat, a loose t-shirt hanging from his thick frame. His eyes were the first thing I really saw; a distinct blue caught my attention, but his other eye, with silky black hair concealing it, was light green. A scar traced that eye, three claw-like marks going straight through it.
I recognized him instantly, though I couldn't put a name to his face. Something about those eyes made me remember something, a small flicker of light, in this abyss of my memories, flashed.
"Rise and shine, wolf girl," he said, sneering. "Welcome to your new habitat."
Chapter Two
"Are we seriously not the least bit suspicious about this? She's a girl. She's a wolf. It doesn't go together, none of the other girls that came are wolves," said a boy from the closer semi-circle.
"She came in a silver box like the rest of us. Therefore, she's one of us. Treat her as such," the boy who opened my box said, snarling. He grabbed me by the right arm and gently hauled me out of the container, at first he was simply looking, examining, but then his glance turned to outright gawking. "Look, she's got a tattoo," he announced. "But…" he trailed off.
The broad boy exchanged a look with the three in the closer semi-circle, then jerked his head, gesturing for them to come over. I looked down at my bare, skinny arm to see a tattoo of a howling wolf with golden eyes. He looked at them, then at my arm, and as soon as it came to recognition, they were gawking too.
"What are we going to do with her?" One of the boys whispered.
"Check her arm, look for her mate," another said. They stood there without a word. "What are you idiots waiting for?"
The skinnier, taller one hauled me closer and jerked my arm so the rest of them could see what it said. They all looked down at it, reading it, then looked left towards the broad boy. Soon after, they exchanged a sorrowful look. The one closer to him nudged him, and he responded explosively.
"No way in hell. She's not going to replace her. You can't just throw a tattoo on her and call her my mate. A mate is a bond. I had that. I'm not going to go through all the same crap again," he said furiously. He was now staring at the ground; his hands, once loose, were now balled up with his arms tight by his sides. The sudden mention of the subject set off a trigger in him.
His comrades each had a face of pure fear, with a tiny hint of sorrow. The closest to the angered boy, an average shaped, light skinned, blue eyed blonde, looked at him after placing his hand on his shoulder.
"She needs someone. The tattoos never lie," he said softly, afraid to set him off.
The broad boy looked up from the ground and into the blonde's eyes. His eyes narrowed with his eyebrows down, he looked toward me.
"So you're going to let her join the Order. Since tattoos don't lie," he said, clenching his
jaw.
The Leaders each exchanged a long glance, almost as if they were thinking the same thoughts over the clamor in the background. I realized that there was an audience watching this dramatic performance the boy was doing so well in. He dourly understood what this meant; he stood there in silence, waiting for them to finally say something.
"She's your mate. We're making her your Officer," he said. Just as he said that, Owen turned on his left foot and started walking away.
As he pushed through the crowd further away, no one stopped him; but before he was completely through the crowd, he simply said: "I have no mate. She's dead."
The Leaders exchanged a long glance, nodding here and there until finally one of the three boys with curly brown hair and piercing blue eyes took out a contraption from his cargo shorts' pocket. The two other boys put a hand on each of my bare shoulders. He flipped it open, it seemed to be a swiss army knife, and wrapped his hand around the sharp blade.
Not taking his eyes off of me, he jerked the blade down and opened his palm to reveal blood trickling down through the crevices between his fingers and down his wrist. After putting away the blade, he traced his wound with his opposite index finger. He lifted his bloody finger and drew a crescent shape onto my forehead.
"You're not in Kansas anymore, Dorothy. There's no more ruby slippers in stock for you, either. Welcome to the Brotherhood. My name's Xander. To your left is Will, your right is Nick. The one that stormed off like a- well, you- is Owen. What about you, wolf girl? You got a name?"
I looked to my left and remembered the blonde, who I could now know as Will, and to my right, a brown haired, blue eyed Nick stood- almost like a copy of Xander. I tried to remember who I was, I could see nothing, not a simple glimpse of my parents, or a house, or maybe even a school. Then, I remembered the thought I had when I was inside the box.
"Victoria. My name is Victoria," I said.
"Well, Victoria, let's get you covered up. It's pretty awkward for us guys."
Chapter Three
My first instinct was to cover myself up after I discovered I was completely nude, but Will had already ran and gotten a towel while I was busy freaking out. I wrapped it tight around me, held it closer than anything I ever had that I could actually remember while Xander and I walked to a place I had no idea about. It seemed that we were walking towards a little village or town because of the clusters of what seemed like shabbily built shops and houses.
Xander finally stopped in front of a small shop with a sign above the door that said 'Supplies'. As he opened the door, it instantly seemed much more impressive on the inside compared to the out; the wood seemed like it would collapse at any given second and the roof had missing tiles. The inside had walls painted white, a red rug or two, and a few dressers against the western wall and a smaller standing mirror pressed against the northern wall. There was a closet on the eastern wall, and Xander went into it, taking out what seemed to be the uniform: a blue-grey shirt with jean shorts.
Xander handed me some sport-friendly underwear too, pretty awkwardly, and turned his back while I got dressed, and he continued to rummage through the dressers for a random assortment of things. After I announced I was finished dressing, he handed me a few other things like a black backpack, a digital watch, and a swiss army knife.
While we had some extra time before we were supposed to go, I looked in the small mirror; my eyes were a smoldering blue, my hair a mess of black waves and my skin far from pale. With not a clue regarding my age, I'd probably guess about seventeen from the way I look: mature, yet not a full adult yet. I rolled up my left sleeve and looked at the tattoo of the boy's name, sitting there in a mocking manner.
Owen, it read. The letters were thick and messy, like someone had taken a magic marker and wrote them on at the last second. When I tried to rub at it, it didn't smudge in the slightest. It was definitely permanent. I wondered who his last mate was. Then I wondered if my name would eventually show up on Owen. When I looked into the mirror, I saw Xander standing against a wall, looking at his watch.
"If you're done being self-absorbed, we've got one more night before the moon but you need to learn self defense," he said without even lifting his head to acknowledge me.
"What do you mean, self defense, is there something out there?" Xander nodded reluctantly.
"We've lost so many good friends and wolves to the watchmen," He said.
Xander put his head down, a silent tear fell down his left cheek. I sat awkwardly waiting for him to dry his lone tear, for him to say something else, but he didn't stop. He looked back up at me with reddened eyes, the single streak like a permanent scar. I sighed and made my way over to Xander, who already had his arms spread a little for me to give him a hug.
"It's alright, Xander. You're going to teach me how to be a billion times stronger and I'm gonna kill every last one of those watchmen," I said. He laughed.
"Alright, wolf girl. Let's get to training, then."
The Leader had taken me to a clearing with a view over a cliff. It was fairly far away from the little hamlet, a great area to practice in peace. The sun was almost completely set, an orange and pink sky illuminating the features of the trees surrounding the glade. There were already a few things set up here, like a dummy made of straw and targets for archery and a few markings on the ground to resemble a 'start' and 'finish' line.
"Which do you want to start with? Hand to hand combat? Weapons? Running for your life out of wolf form?" I considered my options, all of them being completely ridiculous.
"Anything that trains me the fastest," I answered. The Leader threw the blade in his hand down into the ground, then instructed me to do the same.
"Hand to hand it is."
"Hit me with your best shot. Real fighting, no stopping."
Xander broke out into a full on sprint, charging for me. As he ran, I debated whether he was actually serious or not when he rammed into my side, a small ache erupting there, sending me onto my back as he recovered from the charge. When he did, I found him pouncing on me with the reflexes of a cat. I rolled to my side before he could completely lie above me.
Both of us got up fairly quickly, but I was quick enough to run a perfect distance away from him. Xander followed me close by, and when I turned to prepare myself, he had his left fist raised; I quickly lifted both of my arms and crossed them to make a makeshift shield. His fist hit my arms fairly hard, enough that the recoil from my arms hit my nose. Xander used his right hand while I was still hit to jab me in the stomach, sending me staggering back and forcing me to clutch it tight.
While he charged for me, he grabbed both my arms, not letting me hit him in any way when I finally kneed him in the groin hard enough to send him doubling back in pain. He fell, submissively to his knees, hands planted into the grass. Xander got up, biting his lip and swallowing back the pain, and while he was still weak, I stomped hard onto his foot, then jabbing him with a tight fist to his side, and another to his left arm.
He lunged for me, sending us both toppling to the ground, where he sat above me, punching with resistance towards my face, when I sat up, headbutting him off of me. At that moment, I realizing the cliff could always be a factor in a real fight, I got up, then backed up until I was close enough to the edge without the danger of falling.
Xander charged yet again, using his speed to his advantage, and started falling straight into my trap without a moment of hesitation. With all my strength, I grabbed him tight and slammed him down onto the ground, then sat on him, my hands on his head showing him the edge.
Both of us were panting, covered in a thin coat of sweat from all the running, but he chuckled. Shortly after that, he smiled an exhausted smile, showing off his teeth with two ragged fangs on each corner of his mouth. The dark mixture of pink and orange twilight illuminated his every feature, from every unkempt hair in his curls to the sweat under his eyes, making him seem flawless.
"You're a good fighter," he finally said, breaking the silence. "I saw this coming." We both sighed.
"Thanks," I said, still panting.
"You might want to get off of me. This is really awkward and…" he trailed off. Rolling off him, a glint of light caught my eye from a glade just below the cliff.
"What the heck is that?"
"I don't know. You might not want to go down there, though."
Carefully, I got up and ran to get my backpack.
As I grabbed onto the ledge, I swung my legs out from under me so I was dangling from the cliff, then lowering my feet onto a lower ridge.
"Victoria, what the hell are you doing!" I didn't bother to answer, I simply kept on descending the cliff until I could jump and I wouldn't be hurt by such an impact.
Xander was still calling for me, screaming at me at the top of his lungs while I turned and walked into the woods where I saw the glint. The breath-taking orange and pink light shone weakly through the leaves and branches; walking through a few trees and bushes, following the simple memory I had from looking from the cliff, I stumbled past a bush and fell to my knees. The sound of wood crackling and a person clearing his throat made me look up to see a glade, one with a large fire pit. Owen lied against a tree, a black baseball cap over his face.
"If you're here to convince me into being that girl's mate, you can forget about it," he said, a sternness clear through his words, but with every single one of them, his voice broke. I walked over to him, kneeling by his side and removing his cap from his face. The light shining down onto his eyes made them even more distinct, his skin was gorgeous in the waning light and his hair a raven black.
Tears were streaming down his face, the whites of his eyes were a light shade of red, but his right eye was much darker, the claw marks were much less subtle. He looked at me, then looked away sighing, ashamed.
"What do you want?" He finally asked.
"I want to know why you hate me so much," I said, biting my tongue after I realized how rude that really sounded. All he did was look at me while I demanded an explanation.
"Joan meant the world to me. We loved each other, this was our spot. We carved our names together on this tree and everything. She went looking for me one day, saw a glint thinking it was me, then one of those demons killed her," he finally said. As all of it came rushing out, I could finally understand his feelings.
Looking up to the tree he was sitting against, I noticed the carving that he said was there. His eyes wandered to the same place I did, and yet another tear streaked his cheek. Lifting my hand, I wiped the tear from his face, and we started to stop and gape at each other.
Although I wasn't sure if it was appropriate or not, I smiled. His frown was immediately erased, and the corners of his mouth just started to lift when there was a stomping in the distance. Owen frowned and became more alert as it came closer. It finally stopped when the last stomp was close.
There was a long silence, I started to shiver and whimper a little but he held up his index finger, gesturing me to be quiet. A loud crack erupted when I realized a long, sharp spear was going straight through the tree. I rolled away from the oak, but Owen stayed as a branch fell on his head, knocking him out.
"Xander," I screamed for him, afraid, my vocal chords almost ripping to shreds. That was when I saw it: an eight foot tall, metallic human figure. Its face looked like the make of a human's, but completely made of metal. Its eyes glowed a haunting red, its teeth like steel. It had a sickly flesh on its left arm that looked as if someone had skinned a person and glued it onto this robot. The flesh bubbled. It had a hand on its left side, but on the right was simply a lance-like sword.
Its head turned, observing the space around him. Looking dead at Owen, it recognized his limp body and disengaged any attack planned on him. Then, its head snapped my way; it sprung towards me and missed, but the heavy robot shook the ground, making me stumble. As I fell, I looked up at the cliff to see Xander staring in horror.
The metallic human readied its lance, and as it plunged it down towards me, I rolled out of the way. As I got up, I saw its spear stuck inside the earth, and quickly thought of a way to render it helpless. A stick poking out of the fire and the weakest looking part of the robot, its waist area, gave me an idea.
I ran for the large stick, the fire still burning at one end of it. Sneaking behind the android, I thrusted the burning stick through its core. The fire, like acid, burnt a hole through the cyborg creature; it started to howl a mechanical scream.
"Xander, throw me a knife! A real one!" I shouted. Sure enough, Xander was at the edge, dropping down a thicker, black knife which soon fell blade side down into the ground. While the robot was still in pain, I grasped the knife and put it through its burnt hole, slinging it upwards to make the hole twice the size it was before.
The android turned its head completely, like an owl's, and its lance came up above its head. The lance was brought down on top of me, and as I raised the knife, the spear was clashing hard against it. I finally did either the most brave thing I've ever done, or the stupidest, and grabbed the spear, ignoring the immense heat emitting from it as an attempt of protection. The heat was really an advantage for me, and I used it accordingly; I brought down the knife through the base of it, cutting it like butter.
Defenseless, it looked down at me, its red eyes stared at me uncomfortably until it did the expected and dove for me one last time. That time, I was prepared for it; I quickly slashed the knife through its neck, beheading it. Its body lied limp, sparks coming from the wires, until it plummeted to the ground.
I looked over to the fallen tree to see Owen's body lying there, pinned under a heavy looking tree branch. Running to him, I sat down next to the branch that was crushing him. Although it looked way too heavy, I pushed over the branch with everything I had and picked him up by the neck of his shirt.
I dragged him to the cliff, stabbing the rock wall to try and climb, finding a sense of security. Owen weighed heavily, too much for me to carry all the way up. Every breath I took was substantial, I wheezed slightly.
When I was close enough, Xander grabbed my hand, then looked back and gestured someone to come near him. Will's face was bent over the cliff and looked down, seeing me with Owen dangling below me. The blonde looked over at Xander, who then squinted at him, and sighed as he walked back behind
"Victoria," Xander sighed. "You're safe." Will and Nick stood behind him, rushing to grab Owen to haul him away.
"And that, Xander, is how to kill a robot," I said, exhausted. And then, I collapsed entirely.
Chapter Four
I woke up to the smell of burning, and the feeling of being burnt. When I opened my eyes, I saw a young woman with a candle held to my leg. She had brown hair pulled back into a short ponytail, average brown eyes, and a mole above the left side of her upper lip. When I started to thrash, she put down the candle and grabbed a syringe, then injecting it to my leg. Feeling a sedating calmness, I felt stable enough to relax. She held the candle back up to my leg, but I couldn't quite feel it anymore.
"You've definitely got some big balls, saving him like that," she said, moving the candle up to my arm. "If you didn't drag him up with you, he would've bled out."
"Where," I said, weakly. She pointed over to the cot beside me. Owen lied, his eyes wide open, looking my way.
His eyes were one of the most beautiful things I could ever wake up to, their distinction in color would never be mistaken. His eyes relaxed when he noticed that I was awake, and then he sighed and rolled onto his back.
I started to look around where we were. It seemed to be a white, rectangular tent with four wooden sticks at every corner, four other cots sat to the right of the nurse that was cauterizing my wounds. There wasn't much space between Owen and I, by simply reaching out by arms length, I could touch him if I wanted to.
The nurse licked two of her fingers and put them over the wick, no longer letting the candle burn. She turned behind her to a table with three drawers and pulled out a bandage roll. Pulling out a little strip, she placed it by a long wound on my arm and started to wrap the roll around it. When she was finished wrapping my arm, she moved onto my left leg.
"Alright, both of you are free to leave. Both of you avoid hurting yourself and come back if you need your bandages changed. Also, before tonight, check in with me."
Owen quickly swung his legs onto the left side of the cot and carefully stood up, trying to keep his balance. I did the same, following him out of the tent. The air was cool outside of the tent, it was bright, but the trees around the messily built houses shaded most of the area. Owen kept walking a bit faster, like he was completely avoiding me.
"Hey," I called for him. Owen looked back at me and stopped short, which sent me crashing into him. I stumbled, but he stood as solid and strong as a rock. He started breathing hard, his face rumpled up in anger.
"Just because you saved me doesn't mean a thing," he said, even his softer voice booming loud. "You're not her. You're never going to be her."
An ache of sorrow and anger struck through me, and I watched him as he stared in complete searing anger. As he glared in silent wrath, my heart skipped a beat. I was familiar with him, the way he was staring at me. I couldn't connect the dots, I couldn't see what his face reminded me of; but it was still naggingly there. Finally, he exhaled sharply, closing his eyes.
"But… Since my name is on your damn arm," he growled. There was a subtle hint of his anger toning down. "Let's take you to the Hall."