A/N
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Where do I start? I can't start here. Here is a mess. But there is that quote...'The beginning is the best place to start.' quoted by the movie star actress: Julie Andrews. Died in the twenty-first century. I don't think anyone then would even imagined the human race falling in this way.
The start is difficult to define, because I don't know where exactly my story begins. My first memory is hazy, and bright. I woke up in a white, pristine room. Strapped to a thin bed. Snippets of classes and other children follow, but it is all so unclear. From what my 'caregivers' had told me, I was given away from my birth parents, to be trained and educated, in hopes of giving a generation of children better futures than their own. But I don't recall any of that.
I don't even know that I actually had parents.
My memories become clearer as I enter my teens: I moved into a new facility by the name of WICKED. World in Catastrophe: Killzone Experiment Department. I hadn't seen much of the outside world, nor do I remember living out there, but I do know about the Flare. The Flare-caused by sun flares, is one of many causes that the human race is nearly to become extinct, but it is the only cause which still remains as a threat at large today.
It is a disease which targets the brain, starting with the frontal lobes-the part in charge of judgement, and then slowly disintegrating the rest of the brain, turning victims into highly dangerous and deranged beings. And by dangerous and deranged, I mean people that consider cannibalism as part of a day to day normality.
WICKED, is a research centre, trying to find a cure to this world wide disease, and save the remaining one percent of people who are immune to the illness.
I am fortunate enough to also be immune.
Around the same time I moved to the facility, I was introduced to two new people, both of whom had their memories wiped of their previous lives as well.
Their names are Teresa and Thomas.
We were set to discover a way to put an end to the Flare, and come up with ways to test immunes and learn from their brains. No scan or dissection could tell us where to look when we didn't even know what we were looking for, so we decided we needed to put a group of people, immunes vs normal, and figure out what is going on in their heads when put in a situation.
I came up with the idea of putting volunteers through physical, academic and mental examinations.
Teresa and Thomas took it a step further.
"We need to put them in a isolated world and see what they do in real time." Teresa started.
"Yes. We need to put them in a safe but challenging environment, give them a mission, like a puzzle to solve. See what they do."
I had objected, as their ideas grew further, and talked about wiping memories and using children. Thomas came up with a maze. Teresa mentioned terrifying machines, which are now known as Grievers. The assistant director of the whole organisation, Janson, loved their ideas and immediately gathered his group of scientists to work on developing their ideas more.
I didn't agree with much of the ideas and had eventually got pushed away into another team as they saw I would no longer be cooperating in the development on what was soon to become the maze. I was then working with the study of the brain and creating scientific hypothesises on how it would react.
A year later, I was fourteen, and was preparing the capsules for a child who was to be called Alby, when he enters the maze. Alone.
When he was pulled in by a pair of soldiers, I had to stand back, for he was thrashing around, screaming mad. No wonder why. He knew he was to be put in the maze. He knew he was to have his memories taken. He knew he was to never see his family again. Or even remember them.
Once enclosed in the capsule, I entered the codes and instructions and pressed the button.
Blue substance filled the insides, drowning the boy in it's goo. He pounded on the glass. Kicking. Crying. Fists balled, smacking repeatedly, begging for this not to happen, but it was too late. Mere seconds later, the thrashing ceased and the blue substance fizzled before being sucked down the drain. Tubes snaked out with lights blinking, and pumped the remaining solution out of his lungs before the capsule opened with a hiss.
Janson came in, followed by Chancellor Ava Paige with another soldier pushing a gurney. They then escorted the boys body to the caged elevator, placing his body in gently as if they cared before locking him up. I was then ordered to monitor the elevator in the computer security room and send him up when he awakes.
That was the day the Maze began.
Every two weeks, resources and supplies were delivered, and every month, a different child was sent up. Each one was a boy, each with a new name. I controlled little robots called beetle blades. A long metallic body much like a centipede, with red light emitting out from the eyes and WICKED smeared down it's body, looking much like blood.
A visual would be sent to the computers from the beetle blades, and each time a child was sent up, a beetle blade would discreetly join the growing population in the glade.
It was fascinating to see a strong community formed and land developing quickly into a farmland. Curiosity had got the better of them and eventually they were searching beyond the walls into the maze.
It was painful to watch as a year had already passed, and progress had slowed. Regularly I compared notes with my group, group A, with another colleague, Josh, with his notes on group B.
Group B was the controlled group of group A, and was made up of similar characters as group A, except they were girls instead of boys. The developments of both group we consistent with each other, and both had slowed significantly in the passed two to three months.
Thomas and Teresa, whom I rarely talk to now, have nearly perfected their plans in the trails for the cure. It was after a year of the maze did they approach me. They pulled me over to a private area that as far as I knew, was not monitored.
"We have finished planning." Teresa began.
"And?" I stated.
The two of them then went on to explaining that when they eventually enter the maze, I am going to have to program their minds to connect, so they can talk telepathically. After the maze, they were to come back, and the plan was, I need to get one of the gladers, to attempt to kill Thomas, but they knew one of the kids, who was not yet in the maze, would save him. Group B were to have a similar experience, except no one was to save the girl. That would be one variable.
"Then what?"
"Then, we need you and the crew to get us out of here and to facility Containment." Facility Containment is where the children who has not entered the maze is kept currently and would be their home after the maze. Also testing and monitoring of the human brain is done there also. "Can I trust you to drive us out of here on a bus?" Teresa questioned. Mistrust lacing her statement.
I nodded.
"It's not like I have a choice. We have no other hope." I replied mournfully. I hated the idea of testing these children. Knowing that some of them are going to died. Not to mention the suffering they would go through.
I thought of one of the kids in the glade. He had been there a few months now. A runner. I have seen him with his friends, and he always pitches in. But I have seen him alone as well. The hate of being in there.
He's sad.
"I know you hate this, (y/n) but this is for the cure. Trust the system." Thomas said.
"WICKED is good." The words rolled off my tongue, and laid out in front of me as if it was black and white. It is good. We are doing good. This is for the greater good. But I have always wondered how much of that is true.
A few months later, and soon, from both group A and group B, children's lives begin end. One by griever and going insane. Another by a simple but devastating construction sight collapsing on them.
Too young.
I moved my beetle blade round to the entrance of the west door, thinking that I had seen a glimpse of someone jumping up onto the wall and climbing it. The scene before me confirmed my thoughts. The boy I had noticed as being the somewhat cheerless and alone often, scaled the wall using the vines and vegetation.
"What are you trying to do, boy?" I mumble as I open the filing cabinet next to me for children already in the maze, looking for his identification.
Dirty blonde hair. Thick British accent. Newt...yea that's him. I pulled out his file, scanning down the page for any specific details. The only thing I saw of any interest was that he was not immune.
I snapped my head back up at the screen, just in time too see him throw his body off the wall, crunching down into the stone and sandy floor below.
He remained unmoving from there.
Flicking keys and pressing buttons, I span back around and headed back to what they called their 'homestead.' There was Alby giving orders. I had to get his attention. Only ten minutes until the doors close. I know I shouldn't interfere but a kid just tried to commit suicide. Something has to be done.
I whirled around Alby's feet, as he tried to kick back in frustration, missing every time. After some cursing, I managed to manoeuvred away in such a fashion, that hopefully it looked like I was having a malfunction. This could be enough to set off some curiosity for him to follow me to Newt.
It worked.
As soon as I got within one hundred meters of the maze door, he didn't need me as a guide. Newt was still crumbled on the ground-unconscious. He was carried off to the med-jacks. His ankle was broken, and probably would never heal right, unless someone from here took him in, but that wasn't going to happen.
Newt was depressed. He hated it there, and thought it was as simple as taking his own life, but I'll just have to keep an eye on him. He just needs to wait out this whole experiment, and it'll all be ok.
A/N
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