Chapter Text
My first waking moments of knowing nothing. Of being nothing. Oh dear diary I do not know what to write about this moment. But I was scared! I am brave enough to admit that. (Kind of a weird paradox, right?)
Cold. Metal. Blood?
It was dark, the only source of light came from small red bulbs plastered on the walls, zooming by. It was a box, going up. Like an elevator. She knew what elevators were, but couldn’t visualise it... anything. She had no memories. Who was she, where was she?
The metal walls were smooth and cool to the touch. She stumbled over boxes and rope; nailing her face into the ground. Now she could taste metal. The panic finally began to set in.
Protection, she thought.
She searched for a tool of defence but all the containers were bolted closed. No latches on boxes, but her fingers traced out a carving; it spelt WCKD.
The box began to pick up speed; she was running out of time. Her heartbeat quickened, hands going ice cold. She needed to hide.
It smelled like a farm behind containers in the corner, the tarp dripping water onto her head. It was utter darkness.
She could hear the screech of metal halting. The ride was coming to an end. She concentrated on deep breaths, the warmth of her breath heating her body under the dense tarp. She wrapped her hands around her legs, laying her head on her knees.
Her legs weren’t bare. She was wearing some form of cargo pants. This she assumed from the deep pockets.
Deep pockets! The best!
A shudder and the box stopped. She held her breath.
A few beats passed before a thundering stampede of feet from above got closer. Muffled deep voices from above got louder. The box opened. Light streamed in through the tarp and she could vaguely see the colours on herself.
She had golden-brown curls that hung loosely down her back. Her pants were forest green, she had sneakers. A black tank was embellished with a gold ring hanging off a chain. She had been fiddling with a scrap of paper in her pocket. She didn’t have the opportunity to read it yet.
“Who’s the new greenie?”
“Oh, quiet down shank, we don’t wanna scare the new guy.”
“I’m just ready to graduate from the greenie title!”
“Well, if you're so excited Thomas why don’t you jump in the box.”
“Guys, guys, shut it! There is no greenie.”
A chorus of ‘what’ and ‘yeah right’ was heard as the group shuffled over and leaned to look. Two boys jumped into the box. One, a slim yet strong blonde who jumped onto the opposite side of where she was. The other jumped in closer; an angrier blonde with less hair and more body mass. He gave a sense of deja vu she just couldn’t shake. Why does he feel safer?
“Greenie? Where’re you hiding? We know they always bring us one. You’re jacked right now but we promise to explain everything.”
The further boy came closer and put his hand on deja-vu’s shoulder.
“Gally’s right, everyone forgets, greenbean. But we want to help.”
They didn’t seem evil. They just spoke funny. What else would she do? She couldn’t hide all night, her stomach was hungry and something wafting by smelled good. Homemade biscuits and buttered corn.
She grabbed the edges of the tarp and slowly pulled it away from her head. The sun was bright and she couldn’t see the faces above so she focused on the two in the box. They gave her a bewildered look. They took a step back. She panicked and threw the tarp back over her head.
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“A girl?”
“It’s a girl? How-”
“Is that even legal?”
“Newt, Gally, just go and get her.”
The boys had gathered a few feet from the box, discussing their options.
No girl had ever entered the glade before. It was always a boy. Alby wasn’t sure if it was a mistake or not, but all he knew was that she was here and the box wouldn’t return unless she got out of it.
Alby gave the order, and Newt and Gally wandered back to the box, all the boys watching. Zart elbowed Alby.
“Alby, what if this is a test, a- a- trap!”
“Because she’s a girl? C’mon Zart…” Alby chuckled, but realizing the boys were seriously scared, Alby decided to be serious too. “Okay, okay boys. Listen. We’ve been getting weekly supplies like normal, it’s been a month since we got Thomas. Nothing is out of the ordinary. Just that it is a little girl-”
Alby got cut off by a chorus of protests, Winstons being the most prominent. “Alby, there’s never been no girl greenie. I say she is our age, she ain’t little! Was it a mistake, I don’t know-- an accident?!”
“Alby, we gotta do something.” Jeff chimed in.
“Keep your shirt on and let me think this through.” Alby retorted.
A moment of silence.
The glade was warmer than usual today. Everyone was tired, overheated, they were all overreacting a bit too much for Alby. So what if the box brought a girl? Why should she be treated differently? That’s it!
“Alright you shanks, listen up!” Alby stood on a box, to gather their attention– he always had a flair for the dramatics. “I know she’s the first girl our Glade got, but we ain’t gonna treat her any differently. Is that understood? No disrespect, no funny business, and if I hear one catcall,” Alby’s eyes narrowed, being deadass serious. “It's one week in the pit, no discussion. Okay?”
The gladers all silently nodded, serious and respectful. Alby was pleased; he raised his boys right.
“Good that,” Alby grinned. “I’ll give her the tour, and tomorrow, Winston, you teach her the slicer business.”
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Two boys returned to the box where she hid. The same two boys who jumped in the box earlier.
She may have overreacted earlier. But they seemed taken aback by her presence. Were they expecting someone else? Did she know them? Jumping back into the box, they no longer seemed scared. Was that a good thing?
“Hi there, love. I’m Newt.” He knelt in front of her, holding out his hand. Hesitant, she didn’t yet take it, and continued to listen, looking at the other boy who was more distant, arms crossed.
Newt followed her gaze. “Don’t worry, that’s just Gally. He only looks scary because he likes to maintain order ‘round here. I’ll tell you a secret though,” Newt lowered his voice and she leaned in, “Give him an apple and he’ll be your best friend.”
She laughed. She didn’t remember her past, but she knew it had been a while since someone made her smile. Newt laughed too.
She took Newt’s left hand, and he helped her out of the corner. She stepped over the tarp but stumbled on a small jar. Losing Newt’s grip, Gally quickly caught her before she ate metal. He helped her up and took a step back.
“Alright Greenie, you are definitely not runner material.” Gally chuckled, grabbing one of the bigger crates, “Newt will introduce you to the others while I unpack our supplies. Just, don’t keep hiding from us, girlie.”
Newt quickly scaled his way up the box, as if he had done it many times before.
Greenie walked over to the edge of the box where Newt was kneeling. He firmly grabbed her from under her arms and lifted her out. She swung her legs over the edge, sitting in the warm grass. Before taking in the glade, she stared at Newt, smiling.
Confused, Newt bit his lip. “Why are you smiling, love?”
For a moment she realized she didn’t remember the sound of her voice. She hadn’t spoken a word since she woke up. She didn’t even call for help…
“You’re kind, Newt. It’s underrated how beautiful kindness is.”
The first words she spoke in the glade. Her voice was soft, honeyed.
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The glade was breathtaking. As she rose to her feet Greenie saw fields of grass, a garden, small huts, a campfire sandpit, a forest, and giant walls with accents of ivy.
She couldn’t see past the walls but that didn’t matter, this glade was large enough that she knew she’d never get bored exploring.
The sun felt amazing on her head, the fresh air paired well, too. No cold metal that attacked your senses. It filled her with bubbling joy.
She felt free and alive. She let out a childish giggle as she spun around. Newt grabbed her arm to stop her from toppling over. After a moment, the glade stopped swirling in her vision, and they began to walk towards the group of gladers.
“Never seen no one excited to be trapped here.” Newt chuckled.
“Wait, really? But this place is gorgeous!”
“Trust me, love, the beauty of the glade wears off real fast. Believe me, by tonight you’ll want to escape too.”
She took a moment to analyze Newt. He embodied sunshine. The light hair, freckles, round face. But beneath that she recognized his tired eyes, his fight lost long ago.
She appreciated his honesty, but she wanted to bring the light back into his eyes. It was her new mission.
“Then I guess I’m going to have to really make the most out of my afternoon here.”
Newt just laughed at that comment. She didn’t miss how he smiled the rest of the walk, though.
“Welcome greenie. I’m glad you’re finally out of the box. My name is Alby, I’m going to give you a tour of the glade.”
Alby stepped in front of the group. He was quite tall, dark, and broad. He had protective energy. As if he was responsible for every boy in the glade.
“Hi Alby,” she struck out her hand for a handshake, “I’m…”
She faltered, I don’t even know my name.
“You forgot your name,” Alby said it too casually, “it’s no big deal, we all do. Give it a couple of days and you’ll remember. Follow me.”
The two walked around the glade. Alby showing her around the four main sections of the glade: the homestead, gardens, deadheads, and blood house.
As they made it back to the center of the glade, by the box and map room, the tour came to an end. Alby put a hand on the greenie's shoulder, looking her in the eyes.
“Alright, greenbean, here in the glade we have three main rules that everyone follows. If you want to stay here, you have to follow these rules too.” She was quick to nod, but focused more on her surroundings than his words. “Number one: never go outside the Glade, unless you are a Runner. Number two: never hurt another Glader. We have to trust each other. Finally: everyone does their part. No slackers. You can be a slopper, but not a slacker.”
“Slopper?” she swore she misunderstood.
“They’re the ones who aren’t good at, well, anythi-”
“Alby!” Newt jogged up to them, cutting Alby off.
“Sorry to interrupt, but the tomato crisis is getting way outta hand. I’m not sure they’re even listening to me anymore. Could you just?”
Newt waved his hands out, clearly out of ideas.
“Yeah, our tour is over anyways. Greenie, go to the Bloodhouse, you’ll meet Winston there. Wait, what’s in your hand?”
She had been fidgeting with the folded paper in her pocket, still unread.
“Oh, just a piece of paper on me when I arrived. I haven’t read it yet.”
“Can I see it?”
Alby held out his hand and she shrugged, handing it over. He glanced over it quickly, hiding his reaction and folding it back and into his pocket.
“Just a blank scrap of paper,” he stated, “mind if I keep it? I like to have lots of paper on me, for meetings and such.”
“Yeah, no problem,” she smiled, “okay, to the Bloodhouse I go!”
She strolled off towards Homestead, the complete opposite direction.
“Um, Alby.” Newt pointed at her.
“She’ll be fine, she’s new. I’m sure one of the gladers will lead her in the right direction. Or distract her. Either way, Winston will find her and drag her to work.”
Newt cut Alby off again before he could walk away.
“Alby, we’ve been together for years. You can lie to a greenie, not to me. What was on that note?”
Alby’s face dropped.
“It’s a note from Wicked…” Alby whispered.
“What?”
Newt snatched the note from Alby, he scanned over the words three times before actually processing them.
“She’s the last one…”
Newt’s voice faltered in disbelief and Alby finished the phrase.
“Ever.”
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Winston tossed the greenie an apron.
“You’re gonna want it.” Winston hollered.
The Bloodhouse was loud. All sorts of livestock chattered, and it bounced off the walls. The clanging of metal buckets and axes didn’t help either.
The Bloodhouse was a large wooden barn with little amounts of light. It smelled strongly of hay and manure due to the lack of airflow. The air was heavy, and the heat was present. Greenie pulled the apron over her head and around her waist.
“So, Winston, what am I doing today?”
“Well, Greenie, here at the Bloodhouse we slicers take care of the livestock. Raise ‘em, clean ‘em, and slaughter ‘em to eat. But for now, you are going to do the clean-up. Washing blood and scooping clunk, here.”
Winston tossed her a bucket and washcloth, and she got to work. Time passed surprisingly quickly when she mindlessly cleaned. It gave her a chance to process everything that happened in the few hours of memory she had.
She was a nameless girl, the first girl, who entered a giant wonderland called the glade. Everyone who lived here had their memories wiped too, and all they did was live with the hope of escaping the glade.
It was like a storybook. A dream. Far from what she assumed to be normal.
“How’s it going, greenie?”
A shorter boy approached her, his golden skin dirty from the day's work. He had sparkling emerald eyes and a crooked smile. He knelt next to her and they began cleaning together.
“It’s not bad here once you get used to the smell.” she teased.
He chuckled. “I’m Frankie.”
“Nice to meet you, Frankie. Thanks for the help.”
“Of course, talking makes the job way more fun.”
“’Fraid you’ll have to talk to Dave then, Frank, cause Greenie here is moving on to another part of the slicer business.” Winston stretched.
“Ugh, fine. Dave! Get on over here and let’s rant about Winston.”
“Ooh, my favourite topic!”
Dave came trotting over, and Winston threw a washcloth at them.
“Alright, greenbean, being a slicer means you got to actually slice. Frypan has requested some chickens for tonight's meal. I’ll grab the tools and demonstrate, you wait here.”
In the chicken pen, chickens fluttered around, getting easily spooked. She knelt and stroked their feathers. They began to huddle around her, probably assuming she had seeds on her.
“Don’t get attached, chickens aren’t pets.”
As Winston demonstrated, Greenie began to ask him questions.
“How long have you been here?”
“Two years.”
“Why are we here?”
“Pfft, if I know. To be tested- experimented on!”
“It’s Wicked, isn’t it. Is Wicked a group? Have you met them?”
“Met them? You’re joking. If I met them, I’d kill them for trapping us here, minds wiped. They’re cruel, I don’t care what excuse they had trapping us here, I would never agree to this life. None of us would.”
Winston wiped down the block with his handkerchief. That couldn’t have been very sanitary.
“Alright, your turn. Take my axe.”
She grabbed the axe and chose a chicken. Laying its neck firmly on the block.
Winston stood, arms crossed, but close by. As she got ready to swing, it hit her:
A memory.
A boy. Eyes bright blue, sparkling in fear. He could only be twelve at most.
She was in a bright white room, cameras on the walls, a lock on the door. There was an unsettling buzz and an intercom came on, blaring into the small room.
“It’s time, subject A16. He’ll attack you if you don’t get to him first.”
A tear rolled down the boy's round cheek. She held a knife in her right hand, using her left to hold the boy down on the table.
“Please, I won’t attack you, I never would.” The boy begged.
She lifted the knife, arm trembling.
“Come on! You know me, we’re friends-” The boy pleaded.
“A16, kill him.” It was the intercom again.
“No, no, no.” The boy panicked, beginning to struggle under her grasp.
“Cranks won’t be so weak, you need to kill fast A16, or they’ll infect you!”
Between the loud intercom and panicked boy, she became overwhelmed.
Everything was too loud, too intense. She just wanted this experiment to end, to go back to her room.
She pierced the knife into his throat, his scream cut off. She couldn’t move, so she just watched as his blue eyes watered in betrayal and she collapsed to the ground beside him.
She murdered an innocent boy, a friend.
The blood from his body streamed down the table and onto her body. She sobbed. WCKD guards had to drag her back to her room.