"That's it, Clara, careful with your hands, you don't want to hurt them more than they already are."

Thirteen-year-old Clara let out a sharp breath, and removed the needle from the arm of the restrained crank, taking a step back. She wore a pristine white labcoat and a pair of goggles were propped on top of her dark red hair. Beside her, a tall skinny man wore an identical labcoat-- though his was emblazoned with the WICKED logo.

The crank raged for a moment more, before finally becoming still, their matted hair becoming a pillow to lay on as they rested. 

Clara pursed her lips. She had been training for as long as she could remember, day in and day out. She was second only to the man next to her-- why WICKED had chosen to train her, she never knew, but this was the least favourite part of her role.

The constant death, the constant euthanasia. It was like a heavy cloud. 

She knew it was necessary-- WICKED said it wasn't humane to keep the cranks alive, especially once they had determined that whatever treatment they had developed for the Flare wasn't going to work. 

Still, every time the light in their eyes died, she felt a sense of guilt. What if one day she had to do this to her own patients? To people who weren't infected, or still had hopes of surviving? 

"Is Subject C3 ready?"

Clara flinched, turning to face the door. The WICKED director-- Ava Paige-- had appeared. Her smile was light and airy, much like her perfume and the long white jacket she always wore.

The older doctor nodded. "I'd say so, her skills are excellent. She could replace me."

Clara smiled at the praise, though semi-unsure at the use of the term subject.

"Perfect," Ava spoke, smiling down at Clara. "Come with me, dear. Let's introduce you to your box mate, and then we can prep you both to be sent into the maze."

~~~

Hello lovelies!

I hope you enjoyed this chapter, please feel free to vote and comment, I love hearing from you all!

Until next time,

Indigo