The metal is cold against my skin. The gun slung over my shoulder bounces against my black clothing. My bulky black shoes clap against the white marble floor.

The pristine white that was everywhere in the Complex.

Everywhere white.

Nowhere colour.

The only thing you ever saw that wasn't white was black.

Our clothes were either white or black, depending on who you were.

The whites-the independents-the ones that haven't done anything wrong.

The blacks-the watched. They are the ones that have disobeyed the Complex.

The blacks are labelled by their clothes. Their clothes and the mark. You were marked on how bad your crime was. They take your mark and tattoo it on your shoulder, so they can keep track of you.

You could either be an A, B, C, D, E or an F.

I tentatively touch the black F on my shoulder. F meant you had tried to escape. Had broken the Devotion-the promise you made that you would devote yourself to the Complex when you moved from the nursery at the age of 10 to the complex-and tried to run from the Complex. No one can run away from the Complex.

F meant freedom.

F meant failure.

I was the only F. I was the only one who had lived.

All the rest of the F's were six feet underground. My friends. My family. They were all I ever lived for. Yet I'm still alive and they are gone.

No flowers sit atop their graves. No white roses to soothe their souls in death. All that was above their graves were the headstones, marked with the simple black mark.

F.

I could be with them. But I'm not. Because the Complex council can feel pity. Aril Trey doesn't do cold blooded murder.

Instead of killing me, they brought be back, an 11 year old girl who no longer understood the meaning of freedom.

They took me back and punished me. The whip. Over and over again across my back, the pain making me wish I was dead.

They punished me, then trained me. Trained me to protect the Complex. Trained me so that no more of who I am exist in the Complex.

Torture, then training. Now I'm teaching.

I reach the gym and take a deep breath, pushing the thoughts from my head. I was the Complex's pawn now. There was nothing I could do about it.

I open the doors and walk inside.

The new comers stand in a line. There are five of them. Three boys and two girls. Each wear the regulation black clothing and bulletproof vests. Most seem shy and guilty, but one, a boy, he looks right at me with bright green eyes. Green eyes were uncommon in the complex. Everyone had grey eyes. Before you were born your genes were altered so that you were born with grey eyes, however occasionally they missed a child. I myself was a child they missed. I had blue eyes, however they made me wear contacts. Colour was a sign of rebellion. Just this boy not wearing his contacts was cutting close to the edge.

The others were probably A's or B's, but this boy seemed different. He had the air of a further letter. Maybe D, a slight chance of an E. I shake the thought away. He was probably just a C.

I turn my attention away from the recently-made-criminals and walk up to take my place with the other 5 trainers.

Glore, the head trainer watches me take my place and then turns to the newbies.

"Look down at yourselves." He starts. The new's look confused. He walks towards them and looks the girl in the middle in the eyes. Then he picks at her sleeve and states, "Black." Then he moves onto the next person and points to their shoes.

"Black."

He points at each of the rest in turn. "Black, black and black." His eyes linger on the boy with the eyes for a second, but then he turns back and takes his place back with us.

"We all deserve to be here. Some more than others." Eyes seem to flit towards me and I tentatively touch the black mark on my arm.

F

Glore pushes on. "The first thing you have to do is accept the fact that you've done wrong. You accept that, you get an easy time. You don't accept that?" He looks at each of them in turn, letting the question drag on. "Your life gets a whole lot harder."

"Maedana." He shouts. My turn. I step forward.

"There is only one way to pass training and that is to devote yourself. I know you have all already devoted yourselves so the Complex could protect you." I pause. "But this time it's different. This time, you are devoting yourself to protect the complex."

I let this pass through their minds and then I push on.

"As Glore said. You have all done wrong. Now is time to embrace the past and suffer the consequences."

Even though I've said the same words to all the initiates that pass through here, never have the words got to me so much. They seem to echo around my mind today, etching into my memory.

The initiates look up to me with mixed expressions. Fear. Awe. And then the green eyed boy. He looks at me with a smirk. As if he knows something and I don't. It makes me feel on edge. I look away from him.

"The first part of training is to recognise what you are capable of. The second is to push you to those limits, and maybe over. Then the third is the hardest. It pushes you to those limits until you break them. Not many will make it through the final stage. Only those who do with be granted devotion." My mind flicks to when I went through the training. I lagged behind, and was weak, but my trainer pushed me and I made it. Now I'm one of the best blacks there is. The thought makes me smile.

"The whole process can take one to four months, depending on how long it takes you to reach your best. But just remember, don't get cocky. We are still blacks. We are not like whites. We have done wrong. We deserve to die but the Complex doesn't kill us. Why?" I look at their faces, carefully avoiding the green eyed boys. "Because we are useful. And because the complex doesn't do cold blooded murder."

The boy scoffs at this but covers it up as a cough. I step back.

This boy was intriguing. I'd have to make sure to check him out.

Glore steps forward again.

"Part 1 of training will begin tomorrow. Be here at 5 o'clock sharp. Don't be late." With that he turns and walks away. I leave as well, even though most of the trainers stay. I didn't want to be around those piercing green eyes any longer than I had to.

Unfortunately, they follow me out.

~~~

The boy follows me through the white hallways, making no move to step up and say a word to me. He's starting to agitate me. And I don't like being agitated. Finally, I spin and face him, pointing my gun at his chest.

"What do you want?" I hiss. He puts his arms in the air and steps back half a step, smiling.

"Hey, no need for the gun." His smile seeps with charm and his uncommon green eyes laugh like emeralds and-I shake off my train of thought. This boy was not about charm me.

"You were following me." I state.

"Sorry, I just got captivated by your eyes and had to follow you." He flirts. I click the safety off my gun.

"They are grey like everyone else's." I state. "You would have to have a death wish to have any other colour."

He laughs. "Then I guess you'll see my grave pretty soon." His casual tone gets even more under my skin than the eyes.

"Maybe." I click the safety back on and drop the gun to my side.

"Who are you?"

"Calix Theon, at your service." He does a mock salute. "And you are?"

I think about this for a moment. "The name is Mae. Maedana." I reply, and sling the gun back over my shoulder.

"Last name?"

I shake my head. "Last names are for whites. Most blacks go by their first name only."

"Well, that's a strange method. What if there are two Sally's?" he states pointedly, never letting the smile drop.

"Most change their name when they pass training anyway. No two names are the same." I state. "Why were you following me?" I ask, back to the original subject. He shrugs, but with a flick of his fringe he manages to make it seem flirtatious.

"I don't know. I guess you seemed intriguing and I wanted to... you know... see what you did with your life."

I scoff. "More than likely you wanted to sleep with me."

He shrugs. "Perhaps."

I roll my eyes and turn to walk away. He puts a hand on my shoulder to stop me. I look back at him. His laughing eyes seem to soften a bit.

"Hey. Can you outside with me? I want to show you something." He asks.

This is pretty much a complete stranger asking me to go outside with him.

I have a reputation to uphold for the Complex.

You shouldn't go outside after dawn.

And about a million other things come to my mind about why I shouldn't go.

But still I nod and follow him.

Like a fly in a flytrap, I think to myself.

He leads me down the hallways and I follow, even though I probably know the way outside much better than him. I have been in the black side of the complex for over 5 years.

We walk in silence, the boy occasionally glancing back at me with a grin. My brain tells me to just ditch him and go back to my room but my instincts tell me otherwise.

Calix had the element of trust about him. So I decide to follow that element.