𝒇𝒍𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒔 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑜𝑛𝑒

━━━ THE SOUND OF A GUARD'S FOOTSTEPS WAS the thing that woke me up from my short and nightmare ridden slumber. Everyone below could be heard breathing slowly, their chests rising and falling in a steady pattern. Occasionally, someone's breath could be heard hitching, a bad dream probably surfacing in their brain as they tried desperately to sleep in the room that was way too hot to be comfortable. The bunks were old and made of bad wood, leaving the beds to creak every time someone shifted to find a position that was even remotely comfy.

   All of the boys were in this room, the girls in the one next door, all in the exact same position we were in. Gwen was on the bed below me. I didn't even need to look to see if he was awake, I knew he was. In a matter of seconds, everyone would be awake. In the dim lighting, I could almost make out the colors everyone was wearing. An assortment of greens, blues, and yellows, each kid wearing their color as associated with their eye color when they used their ability.

   Green—the color I was pretending to be, and the color that my best friend Gwen is—was classified as a group of children that gained heightened intelligence after Idiopathic Adolescent Acute Neurodegeneration. It was called IAAN for short. Green was said to be the most harmless color, which was partially true because of the fact that the other colors could cause more physical damage.

   Kids that were blue—like Jamie, my only other friend—had the ability to move objects with their mind; telekinesis. They were second on the pyramid that was used to measure the danger in abilities. Blues were mainly left alone in the world, only taken to camps when they were caught by skip tracers. It had been a along time since a blue was caught and brought to WICKED. Most of them were either at Thurmond and Caledonia, or they were on their way to what they call a safe haven and had yet to be caught because they were with someone of enhanced intelligence.

   Gold represented electrokinesis, an ability that allowed them to manipulate electricity and the currents of power. The girls and boys in yellow had gloves on their hands, a precaution that was taken years ago when someone accidentally touched a piece of metal and set off a chain reaction in the main building. Yellows were considered dangerous.

   There were two more colors, the most dangerous colors of all. The ones that wore red were able to manipulate fire, which made WICKED extremely cautious when they came across reds. There weren't any in the building or the cabins at the edge, mainly because the reds were either executed when they came in, or they were placed in different camps altogether, ones that were managed by the overall government.

   The last and most dangerous color was orange. The government, WICKED, PSF's, or basically everyone in the world, was terrified of the kids whose eyes glowed orange. I was one of them, one of the most feared children in the whole world. Oranges could manipulate the mind, the ability of mind control was one that left everyone fearful. We could also shift memories to change certain beliefs and ideas in a person's mind.

   Ninety-nine percent of the time, oranges were murdered on sight or taken to the camps where they were killed later on. The one percent of us that weren't, were the few that were able to trick the guards and government into believing that we were green. I'd heard a while back that there were only two other oranges left alive in the whole world.

   Ruby Daly was the first. Ruby had broken out of Thurmond a year ago, just hours after they realized she was an orange and had tricked them for years. Supposedly, the Children's League helped break her out, but she left them to go on a journey to find the Slip Kid with Liam Stewart. My cousin. Liam was practically famous after he broke out of Caledonia and saved a bunch of kids. The bounty on his head was high. He'd been picked up by the League a while later, but left when he realized they were training super soldiers instead of trying to help get their normal lives back.

   That's what I've heard, anyway. It's hard to know the truth in the camps, cut off from the rest of the world.

   Clancy Gray was apparently the other orange. It was a rumor that he'd been pretending to be a green for years while he was the country's golden boy for IAAN rehabilitation. He'd been in the trial for the cure before he was placed in Thurmond. No one knew for sure what color he was, but seeing as he broke out of the camp single handedly, it was a good guess that he was dangerous too. He hadn't been heard from since the escape.

   I'd been at WICKED since I was at least four years old, which was 12 years ago, and I'd been posing as a green since then. It was a matter of time before I was caught and executed but I was willing to take every moment I could get.

   My body shot forward as the guard slammed the door open and flicked the light switch all the way on. The other boys stirred and sat up slowly as well, Gwen was already standing up by the time I got down the bunk bed ladder. This was a routine for everyone at this point; we woke up, followed the guards to the cafeteria where we would eat a small breakfast, and then we went to our section to begin work.

   The boys all got in a line, Gwen was standing in front of me with a bored and tired expression on his tan face. His black hair was messy, but I'm sure all of us looked that terrible. When we got to the cafeteria, the groups of teens from the mazes were all sitting in their usual spots, watching us when we walked in. The girls from the cabin next door had arrived and were now sitting at the tables with seats open as they waited for their usual companions to show up.

   Jamie was seated at the table in the middle, two seats open across from her. This was the only time of day that we got to talk to each other, and usually it was uneventful. Sometimes, a fight would break out in the mess hall and they would use Calm Control to settle everything down. Calm Control—we called it the White Noise—was a high pitched ringing or whining sound that could only be heard by kids.

   The children with more dangerous colors were affect the worst, meaning that I always got the bad parts of it. The White Noise was used whenever something went wrong within the compound. Whenever two Psi's got in a fight, whenever an orange was nearby, whenever a kid tried to break out, and sometimes, they even used it to find out if someone was lying about their color.

   Jamie was looking at the table when we arrived and sat across from her. She glanced up, giving us a good look at her face. Her eyes had bags underneath them, a cut was seen against her cheek. I didn't bother asking where she got it, it was obviously from a PSF.

   I eventually looked away from her and towards Gwen instead. The skin under his eye was a dark purple and blue. It was a new bruise, one that I was sure a PSF gave him. He was tired, I could see it in his wide but weak smile, and I frowned at his attempt to be the happy boy we'd known for years. Gwen always tried to make sure we didn't suffer as much as he did in this place. Ever the optimist.

   He was green, but he happened to have a really sarcastic personality, which gave him a lot of issues because he didn't know when to stop talking and making fun of the PSFs. He was loud too. They always seemed to be finding something to beat him up about, and when we tried to stop it, we got hurt too. Gwen always stood up for us. Whenever Jamie and I said something a PSF didn't like, Gwen would pretend he said it, trying to make sure we stayed out of harms way. Sometimes I hated him for taking the pain we should have been given.

   But I appreciated it too.

   "Did you hear?" He asked in a hushed voice after we sat down. I shook my head at him, not knowing what could possibly be such excited news that he felt the need to share it. We were in a work camp, nothing interesting happened here. "A new group is being brought in today. One of WICKED's Maze Trials."

   I turned my head to the side in confusion, "I thought the last group came a couple days ago." My voice was gravelly from underuse.

   "Apparently there's one more, all boys and one girl, they got here early this morning." The conversation practically dropped after that, none of us had gotten any sleep the night before.

   The PSFs came to get us an hour later, we got in a straight line and filed out of the cafeteria to go to our separate jobs. The blues and yellows usually worked in the factories while the greens worked in small rooms. I happened to work in the medical lab with a few of the doctors, mainly because I had never caused noticeable trouble that would give them a reason not to trust me.

   When I walked into the lab, a group of boys was already there, a few of them talking with the doctors. One girl sat in the corner, her dark brown hair covering her face as she stared at the floor, probably waiting for her doctor to come speak to her about the tests they usually took after picking up a new group. A boy with dark hair and tan skin was sitting at a table with the doctor across from him, a boy with dark skin beside him. The two of them seemed pretty cheerful. A brunet was in a chair against the wall, a doctor drawing blood from his arm as the boy studied him skeptically. Another boy was running on a treadmill, and the last was sitting across the room from the brunet, his eyes narrowed on everyone in the room, including his doctor.

   His eyes met mine for a moment, looking me up and down, possibly studying my outfit because he had no idea why I was wearing it. My green shirt and pants were pretty natural to the people who knew about IAAN, but everyone else was clueless as to the color sorting. The doctor he was with looked up at me, waving me over. "Green, come here." I walked over to him, keeping my hands at my sides. "I need you to find an injection site and then carry out the process."

   A nod from me was his only confirmation that I heard him. I took the small towel with alcohol on it from his hand, grabbing the syringe full of a blue liquid from the tray on the table beside me. The boy studied my movements, his eyebrows pulled together.

"What is that?" He asked, pointing his question to the doctor.

   "Just a little cocktail, Calcium, Folate, Vitamins A through Z. Pretty much everything you've been deprived of out there. Try to relax." I had to resist the urge to roll my eyes as the doctor gave me a nod and walked away to grab more supplies. I shook my head at him, injecting the needle into the boy's skin.

   "What an idiot. . ." I muttered to myself, trying not to let anyone hear it. Psi's aren't allowed to speak when we're doing our jobs or when we're in our cabins. 'No socialization' is the number one rule in the WICKED camps.

   Apparently, the boy heard me. His accent was British, his voice smooth. "What?"

   My head shot up to look at him, my eyes catching his brown ones before I glanced around the room and then back to my work. "That idiot doctor doesn't know vitamins end at K."

   He chucked. His laugh was nice, I noticed. His blond hair fell into his dark eyes as he shook his head and asked me what my name was.

   I whispered, "it's Flynn Stewart."

   "I'm Newt." He gave me his hand to shake, but I shook my head at him, noticing that the doctor was coming back. Newt frowned, eyes following mine to see the doctor as well. He seemed to get the hint, giving me a small nod in understanding. He thought I didn't want to touch him because I wasn't allowed to, but he didn't know that I wouldn't touch him out of fear of uncovering something he wished to keep hidden.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

thanks for reading!

this is basically just an introduction chapter, and it wasn't very interesting but i still hope you guys liked reading it. let me know what you think in the comments. this chapter has not been edited, so if you see any typos, comment where they are and i will fix them when i have time to do so. thanks.

comment any questions you have.

— gray