Hey guys! This chapter is a lot more laid back! I hope you enjoy, and please review!
Reviews:
angelcarstairs4679: Don't worry, like I said above, this chapter is a lot less brutal!
AsgardianGrizzly: Yes it will, but hopefully it won't happen until really close to the end! Thanks! I love writing Minho!
He stole them. I wanted them gone but not stolen. But the needle man hurt and took my friends away. He had been waiting for them. I knew that. The crank girl, Kitty, she knew it too. But the difference was that she had warned them and I hadn't.
In my defense, I had been in a complete stupor induced by the wretched, bloody needles! But now, I wasn't. As soon as he had left, the man had come back. And now he stood over me, smiling like a child on Christmas morning.
"Hello Newt," He said.
A slurred mess of half-formed words poured out of my parched lips.
"Not in the mood for talking? Well, I have enough to say for the both of us," He paused, either waiting for my consent, or gathering himself. "After rigorous testing, we've finally done it! You, Newt, were the very first successful test subject. We have done it. We have found the cure!"
I couldn't register the words. What? The cure? For what? Why did I need to be cured? My heart raced. Was I sick? I didn't understand what he was talking about.
"Anyway, we'll be taking you out now. Chancellor Paige wants to speak with you personally. But first, we'll get you cleaned up," He opened my door and waited. I couldn't stand up. The man sighed and walked in. He slipped his hands around my waist and pulled me up.
"Why..." I croaked. Fire shot down my throat.
"This is crank jail Newt, and you're not a crank anymore," He grunted as he practically dragged me out. The large door slammed shut behind us. It hit me.
A cure. WICKED had found a real cure! And that meant I wasn't a danger anymore! I forced my face to smile. But deep down, I felt nothing. Just a miniscule flicker of relief. Nothing more.
I pushed that thought from my head as we reached another room. The man shoved me in and I fell onto my face.
"One hour. That's all you have," He said, then he walked out and locked the door. I took in the room. It was a small apartment, except with white walls and white flooring.
There was a smallish table with platters full of cheese toasties, chicken, beef, salads, bread, and grapes. Large cups were filled with water and orange juice and coffee, and few more brightly colored drinks I had no name for. It smelled heavenly.
My stomach shivered with hints of nausea at the pungent mix of scents. I gathered as much strength as I could muster and began dragging myself on my stomach towards the table. I had to stop every foot or so to catch my breath.
After about three minutes, I made it to the table. Groaning and shaking, I pulled my torso up to the table, and maneuvered myself onto a seat. Panting, I closed my eyes for a second and let my stomach accumulate to the smells.
Then I ate. One bite of each thing. My stomach stretched and ached. I looked at the food, each with one tiny piece missing. How could I be full? I told myself to keep going, and I did.
I forced food into my mouth, but tasted nothing. Next, I poured all manner of drinks into my throat. It was bliss. Especially the water and coffee. The brightly colored drinks were fizzy and sickly sweet, but I still drank.
When I was finished I threw most of I back up. But I was fed ad my thirst was fulfilled. I stood and grabbed a few rags from a small kitchen and cleaned up my mess. It was the first time I was standing in so long.
I collapsed back into my chair, dizzy with nausea and fatigue. After a minute, I was able to shakily stand once more. I went to the bathroom and was happy to see a pristine shower.
I peeled off my blood and grime-smeared clothing and stepped in. The water came fast and hot. I drank some as I washed. Brownish blood came off in the shower, pooling in the drain. I let the water run for a long time, enjoying its purity.
Then I stepped out and found some fresh clothes in a drawer. A loose white, long-sleeved shirt and soft brown trousers.
I slipped some sandals onto my feet and looked over myself in the mirror.
So...
This is what I look like...
I realized then that all I had ever known about my appearance was that my hair wad kind of blondish, and my skin was kind of pale-tan. Or at least, that's what Alby had described.
But now I could see every part of me. Except, it was wrong. I was gaunt and my face was shallow. My brown eyes were sunken deep into my skull and my mouth looked pinched somehow. The shirt literally hung off my shoulders.
I ran a hand through my hair, softer than I had ever felt it. But there was some missing, and I couldn't remember if I had pulled it out. Suddenly I felt very tired. I had to clutch the sink to keep from falling.
Slowly, I made my way into a bedroom and threw myself onto the plush bed. It was warm and deep and so very soft. I fell asleep immediately.
I'm running through section four. Minho is in number two. We have to map it. We have to find the way out. I sprint, turning endless corners and committing them to memory.
I stop. A sound. A clicking, whirring sound. A griever. I glance behind me, nothing. It must be in front. It must be right around this corner...
The bulbous creature bursts from around the wall with a terrible screech. I turn to run, but it grabs my leg. I face it, waiting for the stinger.
It roars at me, and globules of the wet goo that encases it fly into my face. Then I want to do something stupid. I can't explain why. But I want to touch it. Might as well, I'm bloody trapped. So I reach out my hand and stroke the squishy flesh.
A shiver runs down my arm, and I feel a flicker of memory. As if I've touched this skin before. I feel an urge to protect it, stay with it, but then the flicker fades and my feelings are replaced with terror. The griever howls as though I've hurt it and lets go of me momentarily.
I scramble backwards, stand, and run.
Hope you all like it! I haven't been getting as many reviews as usual, so please review! You guy are the reason I update nearly daily!
Fun Fact#10: One of Kaya Scodelario's dream roles is a Bond girl that doesn't sleep with him, but kills him!
Wolf Out...