The Storm: Chapter One


There was no concept of time.

Just the bitter coldness, the fear, and the knowing that I was trapped in a place that was both familiar and unrecognisable to myself. The sense of knowing I was where I should be, but knowing that I was in extreme danger.

The sensation was unbearable. It was as if I was being mentally torn apart by two different emotions that refused to worked together to aid my escape. They instead froze my body and let the fear take a grip of me. To allow the fear to settle deep within my bones and torment the very idea I was in danger.

For I wasn't alone.

A murky darkness circled around me. Taunting me. Laughing at me.

I remembered the feeling of dread settling within the pit of my stomach. The slow panic of knowing that I was ensnared within a trap that I could not escape from. The fear solidifying everything frozen with only my mind allowing itself to run free and cause havoc. The knowing that at any moment the murky darkness would reach out with its entrails and let itself take complete and utter control of everything in my body. Destroying the last remnants of my humanity and my conscience.

The murky darkness taunted me. All I could do was watch as the predator inched closer. It whipped, ducked and twirled as is circled closer. So close that it became harder to breathe as the never-ending time continued.

The murky darkness was patient. It could wait, but not forever.

The fear became too much and it willingly opened my body up, allowing for the murky darkness to take its opportunity.

And so it did, latching on to my very soul as it poured itself into my chest bringing the pain. The burning, searing pain. Pain that tore every nerve ending apart. Splintering them. Breaking them into millions of pieces. Tearing themselves apart again and again as if they could not decide if they wanted too whole or not. To die or to live.

Nothing could ever compare to that feeling of every inch of my body being continually torn apart and stitched back together again.

Nothing could compare as my voice was ripped away from inside me and shredded into a million pieces so that the darkness was allowed only to speak.

Time stretched on with no care. And on with no worries. And on with patience. Allowing for the eternity of pain to continue to pour throughout me. Ripping every last inch of humanity away.

But the pain did stop.

A flurry of white mist whistled past my ears and twirled in a spiral in front of me, flicking the ends of its tail in fury. It rushed towards me and dove in and out of my body, pulling out the murky darkness that was trying to attach itself to me and easing the burning pain.

For a moment, it looked like the murky darkness had accepted defeat as it retreated away from my body and back to where it once was. The white mist twirled and curled as it chased after it, flicking its tail as the murky darkness tried to returned.

A deadly dance ensued between them as one tried to best the other. The murky darkness and the mist twirled around each other, their tails stabbing each other as they twirled around each other. The bombardment of attacks quickening as the they spun themselves faster and faster.

The spinning transfixed me, calmed me even. The way that the two forces exploded into chaos just as fast as they whipped themselves back into a neat formation. Attacking with such ferocity and protecting themselves just as fiercely.

The dance did not last long. Soon the white mist completely lost control of itself and collapsed under the bombardment of attacks of the stronger murky darkness. With the last of its efforts, the white mist retreated into a tornado of smoke and whipped through me, ripping at my clothes and hair like shredded flags caught within a fatal storm.

I reached out for the white mist with outstretched fingers, trying to grab the ends of its tail so that it would take me along with it.

I was so close to freedom, but hope died as the wind slipped through my fingers and raced away to its death allowing for the murky darkness to return.

And I was left alone.


I woke as if it was an emergency, as if sleeping had become the most dangerous thing for me to do right at that second. My heart beating fast and a noise buzzing through my heart, electrifying and strengthening panic that started to sneak in. Only my brain felt as if it had been completely drained of everything. As if there was nothing left in there for me to use. Then the feeling passed as quickly as it arrived and I was allowed to be myself again.

Yet a powerful pain at the back of my throat remained, the sensation intensifying with every moment that I regained consciousness. A burn that would not go away but threatened to become even more powerful if I did not deal with it right there and then. I titled my head to the side in search for what a so desperately needed right at that moment. My tongue gnawed at the roof of my mouth and the thick, roughness of my taste buds only increased until it was unbearable to stand the sensation any longer.

There, placed high above me was my salvation. Upon the steady table beside my cot stood a glass of water, clean and clear. I inventively reached for it, taken the cool glass within my palms. The burning sensation in my throat grew more as I pressed the cool glass rim against my dry, cracked lips. A single drop of water traced its way inside of my mouth. I savoured it. For a moment because in the next motion I gulped the rest of the water down before I clasped both my hands over my mouth so it would stay in. I looked down at the now empty glass hoping that what I had just drank would be enough to keep the thirst at bay for the mean time.

It was then that the memories flooded back to me. The terrible memories of that night. The intense pain that ripped through my body as the Griever dragged my away from the Homestead. From Newt. From my friends. I let my head drop in sadness. The pain of the loss came as a witness, to bare testimony to the realness of the love that I felt for them. For him.

How could I carry on?

I was alone, on a cot, in an unknown place, expected to go through a door that stood glaring before me. I had been ripped away from everything I had known. For all I knew, every single person in the Glade was dead. And now was expected to sit there and wait for my fate to be unleashed upon me. I needed someone to help me. I needed the comfort, the guidance, the reassurance. I needed him. I wanted him here. Despite the anger that I felt toward him currently, he was the exact thing I needed to pull myself out of this moment.

Being lost in my own thoughts was not a clever thing to be in. It was dangerous in there. The mind unlocking all the darkest fears and forging them into realities. It was as if something had been switched back on and I could start to feel everything more clearly and more ferociously. I had to get out of my head. I had to stop the spiral of fear that started to spin within. But there was nothing else to distract me. I was alone in the room on a cot, expected to wait.

That was until I heard them. The angry voices from beyond the door.

They were muffled at first, their voices quiet enough that I did not even notice them. Then they become louder and their words nastier as an argument start to brew between them. I could not tell how many people were beyond the door, but I could hear two distant voices leading the argument with a chorus behind them. The only thing I was sure of was that the voices did not belong to anyone from the Glade for these voices female.

All I did was stare at the door in front of me. I hadn't yet moved beyond grabbing the glass (which now rested back onto the table). I was frozen to the cot, listening as best as I could to what was being said. I knew I couldn't just sit here and wait for the voices to disappear. I couldn't just hide away from problems that presented themselves to me. Eventually I would have to face them. I just needed to push beyond the fear that was latching on inside of me and force myself forward and onward.

Being brave did mean being afraid, or at least that what it meant for me. The two went hand in hand for me. First there was the fear of the unknown, the determination not to be ruled by it. Within the Glade, I had let the fear take control of me and to rule my head. I was so afraid of everything that I made so many mistakes. Mistakes that cost me Newt and my friends. I could not continue to allow for this to happen, to allow for the fear to take over and force me to run. I had to choose to face my fear, to conquer it, for how else would I be able to make a true progression in my life? I would no longer be moulded by those who wanted me to be placated, I would not shy away from the first sign of danger. Though my heart would beat faster and my fingers tingle from an excess of adrenaline, I knew I was more than a feeble creature. From that moment, when faced with adversity I would not fly away, I would fight.

I took a few calming breaths while starting to count down from ten slowly in my mind. That's what Newt would have told me to do.

Ten.

Nine.

I pushed the sheet further off myself and let my legs dangle over the side of the cot.

Eight.

Seven.

I lifted myself from the cot. I made sure that all my weight was positioned onto my good leg, knowing from a quick scan of the room there was nothing there that could help support me.

Six.

I forced my hand to let go of the cot so that I could hop to the end of the bed. Immediately my leg gave way and I fall forward towards the floor. With an innate instinct I thrusted my bad leg forward. I gasped in shock, snapped my eyes shut, screwed my faceup ready for the splintering pain that would travel up my nerve endings from the heavy pressure that was about to be placed upon it.

Nothing came.

I opened my eyes and glimpsed down at my foot that was firmly placed on the ground. I hesitated for a second trying to fathom what had just occurred.

"Wha- How?" I was perplexed. The last thing I was sure of was that my ankle was broken. Very much broken. The Griever had snapped the thing in two. I remembered the pain. The noise. And now. Now my ankle had been fixed, completely. How was this possible? How long had been asleep? What has happened to me since I've been out?

"You do not get to talk to me like that!" a voice shrieked snapping me out of my confusion. The situation that I found myself would have to wait. Right now, I had to face what was beyond the door and I had no excuses to not do this.

"Where was I? Right, five."

I shuffled forward. Butterflies soared in my stomach as the gap inched smaller with every step I took.

Four.

"You can do this," I encouraged myself as I stood directly in front of the door, my hand hovering around the handle waiting for my command to push it.

I started to dread my decision. Was this really the path I should take? Is someone or something expecting me to go through this door? Am I being tested?

"God save us Clarke," I scold myself. "Bloody hell, I should not be left with my brain."

Heroes don't dread, they buckle up and brace themselves for the next thing. If I was going to be brave, I needed to change my outlook on everything.

With that, I felt a prodigious amount of courage pushing inside of me, demanding that yes I should be brave and strong not timid and overly-cautious. I had never felt this kind of bravery before surging within me. Not even when I faced the Griever in the Maze alone. So yeah, I felt proud of myself for the first time.

"Ready. Three, two, one."

I slowly opened the door and what greeted me was a fight. Well almost a fight.

A table in the middle of the room separated roughly fifteen people who all ranged in ages and gender. From my position at the back of the room, I was only privy to one side of the table, whilst the other side (the side that I was on) all were angled in such a way that it looked like one girl, with shoulder-length curly brown hair, was taking the whole group on. Both groups were locked in a fierce battle against each other, their words now indecipherable as they screamed over one another.

"How dare you place the blame on me Georgie," screamed the raven-haired girl in the centre of the furthest group. Her round cheeks were bright red against her tawny skin, her eyes glaring with rage as she focused her attention to the one named Georgie. The raven-haired girl was being physically restrained by a much taller blond-haired boy who seemed to be struggling against the girl's physical embodiment of anger.

"I don't need to place the blame anywhere," came the reply from the group with their backs to me. I assumed that this high, shrill voice belonged to the named Georgie. My assumptions were made correct when a petite girl with bright icy hair leaned over the table and pointed her finger at the raven-haired girl. "We all saw what happened."

"You have the nerve…" the raven-haired girl stopped mid-sentence. The pause in her voice caught my attention. I glanced her way and our eyes locked. Her dark eyes widened in astonishment and her mouth gaped open. The blond-haired boy noticed the change in her demeanour and looked up to see what had so abruptly stopped her accusation. His lips parted into an oh as his eyes to settled upon me.

The erupt silence caught everyone by surprise for they had not expected such an end to a climatic argument. Heads turned and whispers rose as each person glanced around to seek out the source that caused the raven-haired girl to stop talking. Eventually, all eyes in the room found that source and all eyes rested upon me each one displaying a variety of emotions.

You can't do this.

Temptation whispered inside me to pull the door I still tightly clung onto shut and lock myself back inside the room away from the stares.

The moment ended when the raven-haired girl grabbed hold and shoved the blond-haired boy away, raced round the edge of table and ran straight towards me. She hurled herself into my body, nearly knocking me down in the process, and clasped me so tightly that we were nearly one person. Her hug was stronger than anything I had ever known, as if holding me wasn't quite enough in her mind.

"Are you really here?" she whispered as she pulled away and looked directly at me. "Is it really you, Clarke?"

What the? How does she know?

"How do you know my name?" I stuttered, the moment shaking me to the core. How was that possible? I grabbed her arms that were resting on my shoulders, and pushed them away from me and back towards her. For perhaps a brief split second her grief was suspended in the air, the surprise protecting her until it shattered like glass. I guess you could call it shock, but to me they are the same thing for the first fraction of a second – an inability to compute the reality.

"Because that is what you are called," she replied back a hint of confusion settling in on her face.

"I know, but how do you know that? I've never met you before," I said, certain in my answer. Even with most of my memories stolen surely there would have been a hint to indicate that I knew who she was. You know, a rush of joy sweeping over me, elated that I had found something that connected me beyond the girl that appeared in the Glade. Maybe a sense of relief even? A relief that washes away the fear so that I could enjoy my mind for once.

The raven-haired girl eyebrows knitted together as if she couldn't believe what she had just heard. She opened her mouth to speak yet no words came out, as if they had fluttered away. She titled her head to the side, pouted her lips and turned to face the blond-haired boy that now stood behind her. All I saw was the silent response that he gave her, one raised eyebrow and a nod my way. She turned her attention back to me, a frown now occupying her face.

It didn't last long.

"Have you lost another friend, Lottie?" mocked the one called Georgie, who had pushed her way through the group so that she could bear witness to the chaos that was unfolding. In response to the comment, Lottie's face screwed into a ball of anger. Her cheeks once again flushed red and her nostrils flared with such ferocity.

With a blink of an eye, Lottie had spun on her heel and charge straight for Georgie, who stood hands across her chest and a sneer imprinted on her face. The blond-haired boy grabbed Lottie before she could get any closer to Georgie. His quick reaction indicated that this may not have been the first time he had to stop Lottie from charging in anger.

"You really need to put your girlfriend on a leash Poe," Georgie mocked as she took the end of her tight plait and coiled it round her finger. I observed Poe who momentarily considered letting Lottie go from his grasp and to allow her to carry on with her assault. The spasming muscle tensions in his arm and his clenched jaw was enough to suggest this. I wasn't the only one to sense this shift in thought. Two girls slowly snuck into the gap between the pair and Georgie, anticipating the impeding brawl that would occur if Poe were to release Lottie.

The tension in the room was so thick that a knife could cut through it. The next move would determine what would happen next. Good or bad. Georgie chose bad. "You really are a pathetic piece of trash."

Lottie released a loud screech as she fought in vain against Poe, who struggled to keep the anger contained in his cage. Lottie clawed at the air in front of her, stretching her hands as far as she could towards Georgie. She only laughed in response, rolling her eyes and nudging the golden-eyed girl beside her saying "Am I wrong?"

Before anyone could reply, a rush of hot air raged through the room as the windows on one side flew open. At first there was nothing there but the broken, jagged glass shards and the wind whistling through it. Then the door slammed shut behind me, causing myself to jump back into Poe with fright, earning a snigger from Georgie and the golden-eyed girl beside her.

"That's not very nice," a voice cooed from the window. A man-like creature had appeared on the other side of the window, gripping the metal bars on the outside with decaying hands. It's eyes were wide and bloodshot, filled with madness. Sores and scars covered its thin, sunburnt face. It had not hair, only diseased splotches of what looked like green moss covering its scalp. A vicious slit stretched across one of its cheeks, its teeth peeking through a raw a festering wound. Pink saliva dribbled from the creature's chin, swaying in long droplets from what was left of its jaw.

"I'm a Crank," the creature snarled as he attempted to push his face through the steel bars. "I'm a Crank," it snarled again.

Without warning, it yanked its face away from the bars and thrusted a rotten hand in that pinched down on the shoulder of its young victim. The boy screamed in terror. He wriggled and jerked his shoulder, trying to free himself from the fingers that dug down deep. The creature's jaw opened wide as it attempted to pull the young boy through the window so that it could sink its teeth into his flesh.

No one attempted to help the poor boy. No one but Poe.

In seconds, he had flung Lottie behind him and sprinted straight towards the young boy. The boy had now descended into a fit of hysteria as he struggled against the strength of the creature.

"Jamie, stop jerking," Poe yelled at the him as he tried to release the crushing grip of the creatures bony fingers. The creature released a psychotic shrill in frustration as it struggled to wrench Jamie through the gap of the window. In an act of desperation, Poe tightly gripped the creatures arm, positioned his leg on the wall and yanked the arm detaching it from the creature's body. Both he and Jamie fell to the ground out of reach of the window and the creature hysterically shrieking above them with the loss of his arm.

Lucky so they did for in that second a horde of creatures slammed themselves against the outside wall. Bonier rotten hands burst through the windows forming a wall of decay. Their bony fingers scratched at the space between us and them, their shrieks of madness deafening as they failed to take hold of us.

At this point, Poe had hauled the petrified Jamie away from them and had thrusted the small boy in between Lottie and myself. He burrowed himself further in and wrapped his small arms around my waist as if I was the person that would protect him from the nightmare. His guardian. I was taken back by the immediateness of this. This kid barely knew me, yet I was the first person that he sought out for.

"What are they?" Poe shouted over the noise.

"I don't know," Lottie yelled back. "We need to move, they're gonna rip us to shreds if we all stay here and they get through."

"And where do you suppose we should go oh mighty leader?" Georgie scoffed, her shrill voice cutting through the shrieks of the creatures.

"Will you SHUT UP!" Poe roared at her; his tone sharp as he lost his patience with the egomaniac. Poe turned his attention back to Lottie and whispered just loud enough for only us to hear, "she is right, what do we do?"

Lottie paused for a moment, her eyes flicking from the horrid scene to the face of the boy in front of her who needed an answer. "I … I … uh … Clarkie?"

She directed her concern on to me, locking my focus with imploring eyes.

"Wh- Wha- what?" I stuttered. "Why you asking me?"

"This is your area of expertise."

"My what?"

"You know, finding solutions to problems."

I stared back at her dumbfounded. What was she talking about? How did she know this type of thing? Who the heck were these people? "I think you've got the wrong person. I literally just said I don't know who you are."

"Yeah, well I thought you were joking." Lottie ran her fingers through her hair and bit the bottom of her lip in anguish. She grabbed her hair at the back of her neck and pulled it down so that her face turned to the sky. She let a long sigh. The fate of us rested upon her shoulders. "Give me a minute."

"Take all the time in the world sweetheart," Georgie scorned. "It's not like time is precious or anything."

"What? Do you have a plan?" Lottie snapped, jumping up from her seated position. Poe pushed her back down to the wall.

"Maybe I do." Georgie shot back. She looked like she was ready for whatever Lottie was going to unleash upon her. From a gleam in her eye, it would seem that she even wanted this to happen. She cared not about the creatures reaching to kill her. No. Georgie was far more interested in provoking Lottie to descend into a fit of rage, as if she was trying to prove something. Or in fact disprove something.

A sharp ear-splitting noise interrupted the argument, or soon-to-be fight. Piercing and shrill.

The creatures howled and retreated in horror as the noise came to much for them. Some clasped their ears in agony as they ran to escape the piercing sound. A few tumbled into each other as the zigzagged away into the distance. For us inside the room, it was jarringly painful. The noise cut right through the eardrums and penetrated the very roots of my brain. I could barely think; the sound was inescapable.

"MAKE IT STOP!" a muffled voice screamed.

On cue the ringing stopped and the dim lights switched off the room descending into complete darkness. Never before had I noticed the silence had its own unique sound; a sort of buzzing sound that only came from bees flying around causing me to involuntarily wiggle a finger around each ear to try and stop it. Every breath and every sigh were like an explosion compared to the bizarre haze of quietness the eloped the room. No one said a thing. No one moved.

What the heck was that?

A giggle erupted from below me, the young boy, Jamie with curly black hair, a splash of freckles and dark brown eyes, held a mischievous grin on his elf-like olive face as he tried to stifle a laugh. "Why you laughing?" I whispered down to him.

"Cause you always do something like that," his little voice whispered up to me. Then by magic, the lights blinked back on and I was greeted by a toothy grin from the young lad. "You always forget to say the stuff in your head, not out loud."

I didn't respond and shook my head instead. From that one small exchange, I knew that somehow this kid knew who I was or knew who I used to be. There was no point denying that fact anymore. There was no point in pushing that feeling away from me anymore. At some point before I had appeared in the Glade, I had been somewhere else. How else did it explain my ability to survive so well with so little to remember. I meant something to them, something important. So why could I not remember any of them? Surely from the way they acted round me I would fall into a sense of familiarity. But I felt nothing like that. Instead I felt a deep longing to go back with my friends. My sweet golden-haired boy who knew how to help me when I lost myself. Despite how angry I still was at him.

A cry of relief drew me from my thoughts. It was as if magic had occurred whilst the lights had been switched off. On the wooden table before us lay a variety of fruit and vegetables, small bundles wrapped in a shiny material, and several jugs of water. Jamie unhooked himself from me and raced to the table, grabbing as much as he could and stuffing it into his mouth. Almost a side-by-side enactment of Chuck and his way with food.

Others descended upon the table as well, snatching and grabbing at food in an animalistic way. A vicious gnawing erupted within my stomach, like a dull-clawed creature that was trying to burrow itself out. I clutched my stomach in pain as I waited for the moment to pass. I hadn't realised how hungry I was until it hit me. It must have been days since I had a proper meal served to me by Frypan. I think. I wasn't sure on the passage of time.

"Come," Lottie commanded as she grabbed my arm and pulled me up from the floor. We beelined for the table and I snatched the closed apple to me. I lifted the round thing and took a small bite out of it. The burst of flavours was glorious in my mouth. The sweet juices running downing the back of my throat. Moaning in satisfaction I attacked the rest of the apple and devoured it to its very core. Lottie lay a hold of my arm before I swept up another apple in my hands.

"Hey slow down. You'll make yourself sick if you keep eating like that." I took her advice and resolved to allowing the bites I had taken before I stuffed another piece into my mouth.

"Hey! Where you'd come from?" Jaime's muffled voice said through bites of food, spit flying everywhere. My gaze followed his pointed arm to rest upon a poof of unruly long white hair that belonged to a man. The man was far not young. It was hard to determine his age as life left an imprint on his face. His arms were crossed against his body and his face held a discerning frown as if he was frustrated about being sat here in front of us. Something about him didn't sit well in my stomach.

"Nest mate, go check it out." A boy was shoved from his position towards where the man sat. Instead of falling at the man's feet, the boy slammed into an invisible barrier face first, body second. The boy stumbled back in surprise, clutching his nose in agony. He turned back to the group and glared at the person that had just shoved him.

"I'll take a tooth out if you do that again Leo," the boy, Nest, hissed towards the one who had shoved him named Leo.

"Zat is enough," the white-lab coat man pronounced in a thick distinct yet familiar accent, startling everyone in the room. "I haffe not kot long to Hexblain, zo Hefferyone take ein zeat und I vill sdart."

We didn't have to be told a second time.

"I am koing zay zis once und once only. Any Hinterrubzions is your ovn loss not mine, zo vu petter keep your mouths schut und your ears oben." The man pulled out a wad of paper from inside of his coat, he flicked the first page open. His brown eyes scanned the page for a moment.

"Okay, zank vu for zettling in ein Horderly faschion zo zat I can tell vat I haffe peen Hinstructed to tell vu. Bleaze lisden carefully," the man voice had settled into monotone as he read from the pages in front of him. "Vu are all here pecauze of your Hapility to zurfiffe nein matter zee conzequences zat are throvn your vay. Apout zixty of vu vere zent to liffe in zee Mase. Your Eten, as vu call it. Und Hanozer zixty vere zent to Group Ein und Group B. Put for now ve vill forget apout zem."

My ears perked up at the sound of the other groups being mentioned in the man's speech. I bit back the urge to ask about the other groups, what happened to them, is my group one of the groups he was talking about, were they alive?

"Out of all zoze beople zat vere zent, vu are zee lucky ones zat zurfiffed to pe here today. Zee schtrength und Henturance zat each one of vu disblayed offer zee final month broffed zat all of vu are cabable to moffe on zee next sdage." A few mummers hummed around the table, but no one dared to speak in case they missed anything important.

The man glanced up from his page then he carried on. "Many of zee zings zat habened to vu are zolely for zee burpoze of Hanalyzing your resbonzes. It is not really ein Hexberiment, ber zay, put more of ein construczion of ein plueprint. Schtimulating zee killsone und collecting zee rezuldant batterns. Butding zem all togezer to Hachieffe zee greadest preakthrough in zee hisdory of science und medicine.

"Zee zituazions Hinflicded ubon vu during zee beriod of your schtay in zee Mase are vat ve call Fariaples, und each one has peen meticulously zought out. Nein matter zee rezulting Houtcome from zem. Zis vill pe discuzed in due courze. Und zought I am unaple to tell vu Hefferyzing at zis moment, it is fital zat vu know zis much: zeze trials vu are koing through are for ein fery Himbordant cauze. Continue to resbond vell to our Fariaples, condinue to zurfiffe, und vu vill pe revarted vith zee knovledge of your bart in zaffing zee human race. Und yourzelffes, of courze. Bauze for effect."

A new emotion – anger – swelled within me. All that happened had been orchestrated from the very beginning. Every little detail plotted for to further some experimental results that this man represented. I just couldn't comprehend what I was hearing. Were they the ones that forced me to endure my time in the Maze? Ripped me away from my friends, who now probably thought I was dead, for their own enjoyment? Was I just another disposable subject to them?

The man flicked the page over and continued on with his speech. "I rebrezent ein group called VICKED. Ja, it zounds menacing, put it sdands for Vorld In Cadastrobhe, Killsone Exberiment Debartment. Ve exist for one burpoze und one burpoze only: to zaffe zee vorld from cadastrobhe. Vu here in zis room are ein fidal bart of zee blan zat ve are Himblementing as ve sbeak. Ve haffe rezources neffer knovn to any group of any kind in zee hisdory of ciffilizazion. Nearly Hunlimited money, Hunlimided human cabital und technology Hadffanced peyond effen zee clefferest man's vants und visches. I am zure vu haffe all come to realize zis, vu are all blaced here for your Hindellect.

"As vu make your vay through zee Trials, vu vill condinue to zee Heffitence of zis technology und rezources. If I can tell vu Hanyzing totay, it is zat vu schould neffer pelieffe vat your eyes zee. Or your mind, for zat matder. Ve can manibulate your prains ven necezary.

"All of it has peen bart of zee Trials, vu Hundersdand? Bhaze One to pe exact. Und ve are sdill dangerously schort of vat ve need in data. Zo ve haffe … haffe … ach du lieber Himmel! Wer hat diesen Mist geschrieben?" The man paused momentarily as he studied whatever sentence he was stuck on. "Oh, zat is zee vay to zay it. Uze vords I can zay next time García … tschul'gung … wo war ich? Ve are sdill … need data … ah! Zo ve haffe had to up zee ante, und now it is time for Bhaze Tvo. For zings to get difficult. Bauze for furzer effect … vat? … do not but zem zere if vu do not vant me to zay zem, es ist nicht so schwer."

The room remained silent as commanded.

"Jeez his accent's thick," I overheard Leo whisper to Georgie. She stifled a giggle as he whispered something further to her. Lottie coughed loudly and glared at them, earning a similar expression back from the pair.

The man paused for what seemed like an eternity before he continued with his monologue. "Vu may zink zat ve are tesding your Hapility to zurfiffe. Zat is not vat zis Hexberiment is apout, only ein small bart of it. Zee pigger bicdure is zomezing zat vu vill not Hundersdand undil zee fery end."

A few mutters started to rumble through the room.

"Zun flares haffe deffastaded many barts of zee earth. Ein dizeaze unlike Hanyzing zeen pefore has destroyed zee earth's beople – zomezing zat ve call zee Flare. For zee first time, koffernments of all zurfiffing nazions haffe come togezer as one. Zey compined forces to form VICKED, ein group created to fight zee broblems blaguing zis vorld. Vu are bart of zis fight, ein fery pig bart, und vu vill vork vith us pecauze, zad to zay, each one of vu has Halready caught zee firus."

A chorus of cries erupted throughout the room, but without even looking up from his page the man thrusted a hand up to cut off any further commotion. "Zere is nein need for zis disblay of schock – zee Flare takes ein vile to zettle in und disblay zymbtoms. Und as ein Hincendiffe for vorking vith us, at zee end of your Trials your revard vill pe zee cure, und vu vill neffer haffe to zee zee Heffects of zee terriple dizeaze.

"Zee zymbdoms of zee Flare are not fiziple to zee eye until zee last sdages. It sdarts py destroying your prain, slovly driffing vu inzane und schtribing vu of zee cabacity to feel any pazic human Hemozions. Vu loze yourzelf as your mind Haccebts zee more Hanimalistic bart Hengrained vizin your head.

"Put, time is of zee ezence," the man continued. "Ve know vu now. All of vu. It does not matder vat I zay or vat is pehind zee mizion of VICKED. Vu vill all do vadeffer it takes. Und py doing vat ve ask, vu vill zaffe yourzelffes py getding zee fery cure zo many beople desberately vant."

The man flicked his paper again and glanced at its contents. He cleared his throat. "Bhaze Tvo. Zee Scorch Trials. Zee rules are zimble. Ven vu Harriffe, head due north for one hundred miles. Make it to zee zafe haffen vizin tvo veeks' time und vu vill haffe combleded Bhaze Tvo. At zat boint, und only zat boint, zix of vu vill pe cured of zee Flare. If vu are not one of zee zix vell death I zuboze."

I sucked in a sharp breath. Six people would get the cure that they had infected into us. I … we really were just something disposable to them. It was disgusting the way that they were treating us, injecting us with a deadly disease that would kill us, then put us through a trial and make us earn the cure back from them.

"Do vu Hunderstand vat I haffe talked apout?" No one answered the man.

"I am guite cerdain vu can all hear," the man said. "Do … vu … under … sdand?" A few mumbles grumbled through the room. No one (me) was quite sure on how to process the information that had just been read to us let alone ask any questions. It would have been great if this nightmare would end right now and I woke back up in the Glade where I felt I belonged. Yeah right, I thought.

"Kood." The man picked up another piece of paper and turned it over. "Vell zen, zee Scorch Trials haffe Hofficially pegun. Kood luck."

The man snapped his fingers and the world went dark.


Hi everyone, so here is the first chapter of the sequel. I hope you like it. Peace out for another week, queenofthetear x