Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

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Waking up with a headache was mildly infuriating. However, opening his eyes, like he hadn’t had proper sleep in months, looking around him, and being unable to remember anything was baffling. He didn’t know who he was, nor who the people around him were, or where they were. He could only remember one tiny piece of information about himself.

His name was William.

He turned his head around many times. The room was wide, but the grey walls made it seem smaller. There was a door on the wall behind him, locked from the inside. On the other side, there were windows, perfectly bricked and barred to prevent even the slightest peek at the outside. In the middle of the room, there were picnic tables perfectly lined up beside one another.

“Morning, sunshine. Had a nice nap?” 

And, so befitting to his luck so far, there were at least seven teenagers right in front of him. Either they were smiling at him knowingly, or their eyes carried a sign of pity that William felt repulsed at. 

“Let me guess, you can’t remember anything,” asked the same girl from before.

She was one of the few people smirking. William didn’t like that at all. He felt like a prey in front of her. Even if she was more occupied with tying her long black hair into a ponytail, he could tell that her sharp eyes were judging his every move.

“Yeah.” He frowned by instinct, giving his surroundings one last look before concentrating back on the teenagers surrounding him. 

A blonde girl walked up to him, extending her hand as if she wanted to shake hands. William did not react in time. He could have rejected her offer, or simply accepted a seemingly out-of-the-blue handshake. However, the girl’s goal was not to greet him. Not a second passed before she grabbed his right arm and rolled up his sleeve, revealing a tattoo on his forearm, which was written in white ink to make it easier to read.

“He has it, too,” she declared, turning to look at those behind her. “ But there’s something different. It says, ‘ Soldier S5, property of WICKED. Current status: DEFECTIVE’. ”

“Well, are we supposed to get rid of him, then?” Joked a blond boy, taller than anyone else in the room. “What’s up S5? WICKED got your tongue?”

“You just joked about getting rid of me, dude. What do you expect me to say?” William pointed out, rubbing his forehead tiredly.

“It’s OK, Birdie, we don’t kill people for no reason.” The blonde girl assured him. “I woke up here around four months ago, just like you. The others have been showing up in the same way. No explanations. No memories. Nothing really. It’s as frustrating as it is weird. Now, if you tell us your name, we’ll tell you ours, and we can have a decent conversation.” 

He doubted for a second, but quickly realised his lack of options. “William.”

“Nice to meet you, William. Name’s Mae,” the blonde said, shaking his hand.

“Rowan,” joined the dark-haired girl from before.

“George.” The blond boy bowed to William mockingly. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Birdie William.”

“Don’t be an idiot, George,” A girl with bright red hair reprimanded before looking at William. “I’m Flor.”

“Name’s Henry, Birdie.” The boy got closer, resting his arm on William’s shoulders. “Good to have you here. George and I thought we would be down by three with the girls for the rest of our lives. Now that you’re here, we need two more guys, and we’ll be even.”

“Keep dreaming, Henry.” The tallest girl of the group laughed, waving at William while wrapping an arm around a much shorter girl’s waist. “I’m Bea, and this is Leen.”

“Welcome to hell, Birdie,” Leen said.

“Don’t be mean, Leen.” Flor pretended to scold the girl with a laugh.

William raised his hand in the air and waved at them awkwardly. He didn’t know what else to do to be fair. The situation was already strange as it was. Now, if he added the locked door and bricked windows, strange was nothing compared to what he felt.

“Well, let’s not just stand here like idiots. We’ve got to prepare Birdie for the mission.” Mae clapped her hands loudly, making everyone march to a room William somehow hadn’t noticed before at the far end of the apparent cafeteria they were in. “Come, William. I promise we’ll stop calling you Birdie. It’s just a stupid nickname I gave the rest after Rowan showed up on the darn ceiling. I still don’t know how they suspended her in the air like that.”

While walking to the room, William could do nothing but stare at his dark-skinned hands. What not having any memories really meant was starting to land on him. He didn’t know who he was. If he had a family. Why he was there. Or if he deserved to be there. What if he was being punished for a crime? What was WICKED? And what did they want? Why did he have such a strange tattoo on his arm? And why was he being called ‘defective’?

“Don’t stress over it,” Mae whispered, only for him to hear, giving him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “It’s not worth it.”

“I’ll try,” he breathed out, entering the room behind her.

It was simple, just like the cafeteria. Grey walls, many bunk beds, and two doors. One led to the cafeteria, and the other revealed, as it was opened, to be the bathroom’s door. His dark skin contrasted against the pale grey sheets of the bed he had ended up sitting next to Flor, watching the rest stare at one another doubtfully.

“About the missions,” Mae began, leaning against the ladder to the bunk bed across from him with her arms folded. “They’re not pretty. So far, they’ve only been about killing some crazy people that pretty much look like zombies. They call themselves Cranks.”

“Don’t be fooled. They’re more than mildly dangerous. They’re surprisingly fast and strong. It’s better not to underestimate them,” Flor warned him. 

Mae nodded, her eyes losing their bright brown gleam as she continued talking. “We’ve lost four people to those things already. I’m not letting anyone else die. So be careful and don’t leave our side.”

William brushed his hands against his trousers, trying to get rid of the anxiety that had overtaken his mind and body. “How do you fight them if they’re so fast and strong?”

“Look at your thigh, genius,” Rowan said with a smile. 

William took his hand to his thigh, finding a knife in a sheath, carefully protected in a brown holster.  

“That’s how. Somehow, we all know how to fight. Now, do you, Birdie?”

After careful consideration, William could only shrug. Fighting seemed like a complicated thing, weaponless or not. He doubted he could. However, Henry’s determination to put the newbie to the test triggered a part of William that not even he knew he had. So he agreed. Just to shut Henry up.

Time passed by slowly, and wrestling didn’t help make it more bearable. Five minutes had gone by, and neither had the upper hand. At least the experience did allow William to know something about himself — he hated wrestling. 

To his delight, Mae called them to stop. She seemed pleased, which he didn’t understand why. But, as long as it meant he didn’t have to fight anyone else, he didn’t mind it at all. 

“Well, you do clearly know the basics of hand-to-hand combat,” Bea pointed out, a smirk forming on her face. 

“But can you manage the knife?” Leen continued for her, giving William his knife back. Everyone took a step back, and she pointed at the frame of the room’s door. “Aim between the knob and the frame.”

The instructions, or rather the lack of them, forced William to be as precise as he could. He gripped the knife with his left hand, trying to determine the strength he’d have to use and throw. It miraculously landed close to the spot Leen had asked him to aim at. 

“Impressive,” Bea smirked, wrapping her arm around Leen’s waist once again. “I’d say William is nearly as good as you are with knives.”

 “How many days are there until the next mission?” William turned to look at Mae, who gave him a pitiful look. 

“Days? Hours at most, William. Today’s the seventh day,” she answered. “Just stay close, and don’t do anything stupid, alright? You’ll be fine.”

“Well, better sit tight and relax, Birdie. You’ll need the rest.” Henry patted William’s shoulder with a mocking smile. 

Mae huffed at the boy’s comment, then showed William to the non-occupied bunk beds, which turned out to be many. “He’s partly right. It’s going to take a while to get rid of the Cranks, and we still need to know where we have to go. So it’s likely we won’t be able to go to bed until tomorrow morning. You should try to sleep what you can.”

“I love how you didn’t even bother to include us,” Rowan said.

“You’ve all been here for at least a month. I don’t have to baby you anymore.” Mae answered playfully. “Anyway, it’s not like you would go to bed even if I pointed a gun at your head and threatened you.”

“Aw, you know me so well,” Rowan smirked, which soon changed to a wide grin. “I’m flattered, Miss Leader.”

“Go flirt elsewhere,” Henry pretended to whine while climbing to his top bunk. “People are trying to sleep here.”

“Cry baby.” Bea rolled her eyes as a joke and joined Leen in the bottom bunk right under Henry’s. “Make sure to wake us up when the note appears.”

“Sure will,” Mae promised, and exited the room with Rowan right after George and Flor.

William lay on the bed, glancing at the underside of the bed on top of him. His head swarmed with thoughts. He was confused. Utterly lost. However, some tiny details did click somewhere in his mind. Like Cranks. He was sure he had heard that term before. Not sure where, or in which context, but he had surely heard it.

Then there was the group. As odd as they were, they all seemed familiar. His anxiety and the lack of memories could be involved in his decision, but he wanted to trust them. There was something, not exactly their words, that made him trust those people. Perhaps it was Mae’s continuous apologetic look in her eyes or the way Rowan tried to hide her fear behind a pretty decent, humorous behaviour, but he could only pity them.

William pitied them just as much as he pitied himself. 

A spark lit in his mind. Similar to a light switch being turned on and off in less than a second. His eyes had been tightly closed, allowing him to see something through the bright light. A quick glance at someone’s bright blue eyes. 

William’s breath caught in his throat. He couldn’t sleep. Not after that. Had that been a memory? He doubted it, though he wasn’t sure what else it could be. No one in the group had eyes like that. 

The more he thought about it, the more his breath quickened. A mild headache became stronger by the second, forcing him to press his hands against his head in need of comfort. It was no help.

With time, he accomplished composing himself. Tired of faking being asleep, he sat up. His eyes landed on his exposed tattoo. The same words from before, still present. His fingers traced over them, not sure what to expect. The fact that he knew what a tattoo was, but not why he had one, or when he had got it, was puzzling.

“You get used to it with time,” George appeared out of nowhere, making William jump slightly. “Calm down, Birdie. It’s just me. No Crank here.”

“Where did you even come from? I didn’t hear you walk in,” William whispered, trying not to wake up those who were actually sleeping.

“Mae sent me to sleep ‘cause I yawned once.” George chuckled. “I swear, she treats us like children. I bet I’m older than she is.”

“Yet you listen to her,” William pointed out while raising an eyebrow mockingly.

“You’ll see why when we’re on the mission. Even if all of us know how to fight . . . Let’s say we didn’t know how to work as a team. If we’re alive, it’s thanks to her.” George took a seat beside him on the bed. “She said we lost four people to the Cranks, which isn’t a lie. But she didn’t tell you the whole truth, either. Some changed into Cranks, William. That’s also why they’re so dangerous. We’ve seen them turn. Killed them after they begged us to do it for hours on end.”

William’s eyes were now back at his tattoo, feeling as if it had become a death sentence. “Why are you telling me this?” 

George bent forward slightly, resting his elbows on his legs to raise his hands to his chin. “Because if you have to cry and whine, better do it now. Trust me, there’s no point in waiting to have those things right in front of you to start crying. You lose time and put yourself and the rest in danger. Not worth it.” George answered.

William kept quiet, staring at the floor as he waited for tears to make their presence. They never came. It didn’t matter how bizarre, unsettling, and morally devastating his situation was, he felt no need to cry. He sure would like to. At least that would prove part of his tattoo wrong. He didn’t want to be a soldier. He was a human, a teenager, probably. 

He had feelings and worries. He was afraid of death and didn’t want to kill anyone. Unfortunately, WICKED didn’t seem like the kind of people that would care about what he said or felt. 

“Mae said I also had a tattoo.” He turned to look at George’s arm, which was perfectly hidden under his sleeve. “What’s yours?”

“Same as you. Only my number is different, and I’m a pale freak, so the ink is black, not white . . . I’m Soldier S4.” George chuckled. “I sometimes fool myself to think the people that left us here are actually robots. You know? I mean, who in their right mind would do this to a bunch of teenagers?”

“Maybe this is some kind of punishment?” William wondered out loud. “A prison of some sort?”

“A prison one can leave whenever they like? Well, that’s something I’ve never heard before,” George commented. “No, this is not a prison. But for sure, it is a punishment. Don’t think we’re idiots. We’ve scouted the surroundings a hundred times. The places they ask us to go are hours away, and there are no provisions at all there. We just get there, do our thing, begin to starve and come back to receive daily rations of food for another week. They know we can’t leave. Not if we want to survive.”

The bed across from them creaked softly as the sheets were moved slowly, letting Bea get up without startling or waking Leen up. She didn’t say a word while covering the short girl, who hugged a pillow in exchange for the missing girl.

“George, you always do this with the Birdies. Let the poor guy breathe,” Bea said in a low tone.

George leaned back, hugging one knee to his chest. “I’m just telling him how things are. It’s best if he knows it sooner than later. Take Audie for an example —”

“Don’t talk about him,” Bea hissed. “If Mae hears you, she’ll go mad.”

“Who was he?” William asked, confused as to why the boy would be banned from being mentioned.

Bea locked eyes with him, not wavering once as she answered. “He was the only non-Crank we’ve ever banished.”

“He was a Birdie, too, and he contributed to a little girl’s death. He was banished for that. We found his corpse days later, burnt and half-eaten.” George explained further, clenching his hands together. “We don’t take chances here. If someone’s a menace once, they’ll be a menace twice. We’ve always been few, so we couldn’t give anyone the benefit of the doubt.” 

 A knock on the door cut their chatter short. Mae stood there, a solemn look on her face as she waved a note in the air. “If you’re done scaring the Birdie, how about you get your butts over here and listen to what we’ve got to do? Wake Leen and Henry up, too.”

“Sure will,” Bea answered, moving towards Leen to wake her up softly.

William followed Mae to the cafeteria, where Rowan and Flor were already waiting. They sat at a picnic table around the centre of the room, where all could fit, and kept their eyes on the note at all times. When the last one sat down, Mae unfolded the note and read it.

“What does it say, Mae?” Flor asked once Mae had left the note on the table.

“The place we went to two weeks ago? We have to go again. It said something’s waiting for us there,” Mae muttered while scratching her forehead. “It also said we should bring all we need, ‘cause no food will be brought here anymore.”

Judging by everyone’s reaction, the letter didn’t contain the usual message they were used to. William had to admit that it was ominous. Going to a place the group had already explored, expecting something, either good or bad, to be there, while carrying everything they needed from this location to the new one. 

“Why would they make us move so suddenly?” Henry wondered out loud.

“And there’s also that ‘something’ waiting for us.” Bea pointed out. “What if we have to go look for other Birdies?”

“I don’t think so,” Mae said, resting her head on her hands.

“Guess there’s just one way to find out, huh?” Rowan chuckled bitterly.

“It’s risking it or starving,” added Leen. 

William glanced from one person to another. He didn’t know what to expect. It was his first day — his first mission — and things were changing. No one seemed to do the same correlation as he did, which he was thankful for. Being accused of endangering the group with his presence would only complicate things.

“When do we have to be there?” Questioned George as he got up from his seat.

“We’ve got enough time to get ready before we leave. That old car park is about an hour away from here.” Mae got up as well, while rolling up her sleeves. “George, get the Birdie some bandages and a mask. If he goes out like that, he’ll get infected in no time. Henry, pack up some sheets and a few pillows. Flor, Rowan, pack some clothes. Leen, Bea, you’re in charge of the weapons.”

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