THE SURVIVOR!
trusting and memories.

MARG!

   𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐊 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓 until they noticed a pile of scraps that would have guaranteed a place for them to rest for the night. Once everyone had set their things down, Marg proceeded with lighting a fire they could sit around before grabbing something else they could all eat from her backpack.

Night had fallen quickly and, soon enough, the fire was their only source of light as the flames danced around casting shadows behind each one of them. Her and Thomas had worked out a small schedule in order to always have two people on guard throughout the night, the first shift being assigned to her and Newt by the brunette himself.

Aris added another piece of wood to the fire before taking a seat between Margaret and Frypan. She threw her best friend a quick glance to check that he was feeling better after what happened earlier in the day and received a smile followed by a nod in return, almost as if they could read each other's minds.

"I thought we were supposed to be immune." Minho's statement broke the silence, forcing Marg to stop shuffling her pocket knife in her hands to calm her nerves.

"Not all of us, I guess." Teresa replied in a very calm way causing Marg's head to flip around and for her eyes to focus on the girl that was laying on the ground. The brunette girl looked at the redhead who was now throwing silent daggers at her as she was sure that the girl from Group A knew more than what she had previously said.

"I wonder how you know this." Margaret seethed loud enough for her to hear causing the brunette to immediately shift her gaze toward the fire.

"If Winston can get infected, we should assume so could the rest of us." Newt stated as a matter of fact.

"I never thought I'd say it." It was Frypan to break the silence after a few minutes. "I miss the Glade."

Nobody dared to speak another word until they all fell asleep, all but Margaret and Newt. The former had already grabbed a small bottle of water and her axe and positioned herself not too far away from the group of sleeping teens, but not too close to wake them up either.

The sound of footsteps caused the redhead to grab the handle of her axe and straighten her body, ready to attack whatever creature was nearing her, only to drop the weapon once Newt took a seat next to her nodding at the object she had just thrown on the sand.

"Have you always been so on edge?" He spoke, almost a whisper leaving his lips.

"I had to. I had to train people, had to survive every single night inside the Maze. I could never let my guard down." She answered truthfully while going back to fiddling with her pocket knife.

"What you did today, for Winston... Why did you do it?" The redhead cocked her head to look into Newt's eyes and all she found was sheer and sincere curiosity. She quickly tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before letting a small smile appear on her face.

"Because no one deserves to die alone. To fear death is normal, but to wait for it by yourself is just cruel." The words coming out of her mouth caused her to shake her head as she felt like she had heard those words before, just coming from someone else. "We got stung a lot, in my Maze." She started to explain by slightly raising her shirt to show what once was a deep, and moderately long gash, on her side only to let the material fall back once she noticed Newt had seen the scar. "It was hell on Earth, but it helped us remember quite a lot of things, at least I did." She whispered the last part, remembering how painful it was to lose someone due to a Griever.

"Some of them didn't?"

"Some of them remembered the same things over and over, others something more and... we lost a fair few to those suckers." Just the mention of the foul creatures caused the girl to flick her knife open and stick it in the sand quicker than ever and with more strength than desired. She could see Newt eyeing her knife and she knew that he would have asked her about it as she was never seen without it, but the question that followed caused her to chuckle.

"And you remembered a song." Newt commented trying to stifle a laugh, something she found odd to hear after the day they had.

"I remembered my mom singing it to me and my brother." She slowly nodded. "Only a few people, a handful, know about him, my twin. I remember us playing, my mom would chase us to put us to bed and sing us that song to sleep, every single day almost like clockwork. That's until she got infected." The smile that had made its way on her face while talking about the boy she remembered to be her twin brother disappeared as soon as she mentioned her mother turning into one of those awful creatures.

"You don't have to..." Newt started while placing his hand on her lower back just to start rubbing the area in an attempt to soothe her.

"I want to." She quickly interrupted him from finishing the sentence. "But I need you to keep everything I tell you between us. I don't want anyone" She paused looking backwards at the rest of the remaining members of their group that were currently fast asleep. "I don't want anyone else to know stuff about me. Promise me, okay?" Margaret eyes found Newt's and she didn't move them, not even blinked, waiting for the boy to answer.

"I promise." He added giving her a reassuring smile. "I swear on my life."

"This." She nodded toward the knife she was holding in her hands. "Our father gave one to the both of us. 'Safety first' he said that day. It's the only piece of my family I have left." She quickly closed the pocket knife and let it slide inside one of the pockets of her pants before zipping it close. "Do you remember anything?" The wind had picked up a little bit ever since they started talking and Margaret found herself scooting closer to Newt who simply used his left arm to hug her back sideways while his hand stroked the skin of her bare arm.

"No, I don't remember much at all to be honest. We were luckier than you guys as our walls closed every night." He spoke, the movement his chest made while doing so causing Margaret to feel a strange tingling feeling inside. "We had med-jacks to help out with the injured, though. What did you guys do?"

Margaret simply shrugged before placing her head on Newt's shoulder, starting to feel extremely comfortable around the boy, something that both terrified her and made her extremely happy. She would have never thought to be possible to feel happy in a place like this, but Newt had managed to get through the walls she had erected around herself during the years. "We mended our injuries. Well –" she let out a silent laugh as she remembered a very scared Liam approaching her one morning.

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   "Boss, I kinda need some help and..." Margaret had just finished patching up another Sunshine who had decided that coming face to face with a wall was less hurtful than facing a Griever. She couldn't blame the kid though, for she was new and had yet to start her training.

"What is it, Liam?" The redhead huffed whipping her head around to face the kid who was now shuffling his feet in the dirt underneath a rather large tree. "For fuck sake, where did you get that?" She exclaimed once she eyed a long and deep wound on the boy's stomach, something that would have caused him not to be able to fight for at least a week.

"We were facing a couple of those and when Miriam turned around with her spear she accidentally did this." He explained, his face turning bright red, while he managed to control the tone of his voice as, since the very beginning of their training with Marg, each Survivor was also trained in how to face pain without letting it get the best of you.

"Oh, shit. Miriam needs another round of training, again." Margaret threw her hands in the air, completely exasperated, as the girl had already been trained twice, but seemed to make the same mistakes over and over resulting in whoever had been assigned to her group to dread the night from the very beginning. "Come here." She motioned to the boy once she had composed herself, letting him lie down on a blanket that they used as a 'hospital bed'.

"I am not going to move, Boss. I know the drill." He whispered while pointing at the needle Marg had just sterilized by using something that they had found in one of the others' backpacks.

"Good, this is gonna hurt like a bitch." She stated while prepping all the things she needed to stitch the boy back up. "Now put something in your mouth and bite it down. I don't want the ones on the sleeping rota to be all grumpy because you woke them up." She quickly added with a playful wink causing the boy to snort in response.

Liam didn't move, his hands clenching now and then while trying to suppress the need to scream in pain as they had nothing to control it. Marg's hands moved like the task at hand was something that she was a natural at, while in reality all her knowledge had come from the first months spent in that hellhole either by herself or with a couple of others that were no longer there.

"All done." She exclaimed once she had finished with the stitches and added some kind of liquid they had found to be helpful to keep the wounds from getting infected onto his abdomen.

"Thanks Boss. You're a great doctor." He nodded briefly before standing up and making his way toward the high tree they had picked for the injured to rest on while they healed during the days and nights they couldn't fight.

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   "I kinda ended up mending most of them and mine as well. Some of the Survivors ar-" She stopped mid-sentence and, almost as if he sensed her nervousness, Newt placed his free hand on top of her left one. "-were downright butchers when it came to stitching people up." She finished letting a shaky breath out.

Winston's death, even if she hadn't known the boy very well, had done a number on her. Every single time silence would fall upon them she couldn't stop her mind from replaying the events over and over and it didn't help the fact that the boy's passing caused Margaret to vividly remember a lot of deaths she had witnessed while in the Maze.

"Alby would have probably loved to have someone like you in the Glade." Newt added while keeping his eyes trained in the distance. "You would have gotten along with Nick as well." He muttered, clearly hoping that the redhead wouldn't have heard him. Marg remained silent for a few seconds and decided not to ask anything about the second name mentioned by the boy as it sounded almost painful for him to talk about it.

"Alby?" Margaret asked while keeping her gaze focused in the same direction as the boy. She knew better than to ask more about people that weren't around her as it probably meant they didn't make it. She liked the boys she escaped with, she was slowly warming up to each one of them, but the thing that actually surprised her the most, as she was always very careful when it came to it, was that she felt like she could trust Newt with anything, therefore she didn't want to hurt him by asking something that would have done such a thing to him. The only person she still couldn't stand, nor she could ever see herself being able to trust, was Teresa as something inside of her kept on connecting the girl with the organization they just escaped from even if she had no memory to sustain such a claim.

"Alby was our Leader. He died just before we left the Glade, sacrificed himself for a young boy and asked Thomas to bring us out." This time around it was her to grab Newt's hand. She slid her left hand from underneath Newt's and placed it on top of his hand. "He was also one of my best friends."

The sound of a couple of people stretching caused the two of them to turn around only to notice Thomas and Minho, the latter stretching his hands above his head while throwing a wink in Newt's direction. The duo stood up and reached the space they had arranged for the group to sleep, nodding to the new duo to take over guard duties as they made their way to their selected space to sleep.

The events of the day had taken a huge toll on Marg and, considering that she hadn't slept the night before, she welcomed a small yawn before feeling her body relax and her eyes close as another gust of wind engulfed her body.

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   "I am going to catch you!" A five years old kid screamed and giggled while running around the table trying to tag his twin sister.

"No, you're not!" Little Margaret replied laughing at his brother while letting one of the chairs fall on the ground.

As predicted, her brother saw the chair falling and immediately darted in the opposite direction thinking that his sister would have been too much of a wuss to try anything, but was left pouting when the girl jumped over the legs of the fallen chair and stuck her tongue out.

"A girl can be strong, just like a boy." The young redhead sing-sang while moving her head to further annoy her twin. Her actions paid off as he immediately ran in her direction, but was stopped by the girl who started to tickle him. "I always win." She asserted while her brother tried to gasp for air in between each fit of laughter.

All of a sudden, the two kids heard something crash on the first floor and the sound of glass breaking caused the two of them to share a confused look. They didn't look the same, not in many features, but they had a very similar character and shared a gut feeling most kids their age shouldn't have.

They had seen some men dressed in uniforms leaving the house a few days prior, followed by their dad who thanked them for understanding his situation. Their dad thought he had done a good job at sheltering his kids, but the two mischievous children had snuck out of the house one evening only to see the girl who used to babysit them no longer looking like her loving self. She had lost all her hair and her sunken features, along with her greyish skin were enough for the two of them to understand that something was extremely wrong.

The boy had shielded Marg right away, only for her to swat his hand away from her, and right in that moment their former babysitter had lunged at the army man and started to bite him, tearing away a piece of flesh like it was something that happened every single day.

That night the two kids slept together on the sofa as none of them felt like being alone, fearing they'd see the face of the kind girl who had taught them how to read trying to eat that poor man all over again.

Their father had left in the morning giving them clear orders to stay downstairs at all times as their mom needed to sleep for she was sick. The twins, who both loved their mom dearly, hadn't set a single step on the stairs, not even when they heard the noises that were coming from above.

"What's happening?" The boy asked to his sister while keeping his eyes trained on the end of the stairwell.

"I don't know." Margaret answered while taking a tentative step forward. Their mom might have wanted a glass of water and the girl, who hadn't seen her mom in days, couldn't wait for her to get better so she could go back to playing with her and her twin like she always did. She didn't get further though, as her brother had beaten her to it and was now all too close to the stairs that led to their bedrooms and their parents'.

What happened next would haunt Margaret forever, as something that strongly resembled their mother walked downstairs, a crazed look on its face and a smile that sent her bone-chilling shivers down her spine. It wasn't the fact that whatever was coming downstairs had its face covered in black veins and was drooling a black thick substance. Nor was the fact that what looked like her mom slammed a fist in the wall causing a weird color of blood to run down its surface, but that whatever it was, whatever her mom had become, was eying her twin just like she usually looked at a full plate of chocolate chip pancakes.

"Mom, mom. It's me." Her brother had started to speak, his voice wavering as he took one step backwards at a time, trying not to startle what was left of their mom. "Mom, please, it's me." His eyes were now watering and the young redhead could clearly see he was trying not to cry out of fear.

Her next few actions were quick, almost instinctive, as she saw the creature her mother had become preparing itself to lunge at her twin, and she grabbed a kitchen knife her father had forgot on the table. The knife was heavy for a five years old girl, but the soldiers, who had later visited the family to collect the body, kept explaining to her how she acted like she did because of something called adrenaline. She sprinted just like she did when she played with her brother toward the creature that was too near for comfort to her twin and plunged the knife in its back, piercing its heart and causing the creature to die right on the spot.

Her brother, frozen against the fridge, turned to look at the young redhead who had slowly removed the knife from the creature's body after it hadn't moved for a while to make sure it was dead. "Marg, what was...?" But she didn't reply as she dropped the knife that had suddenly become way to heavy in her hands and stepped backwards while trying to get rid of their mother's black blood that coated her trembling hands on her dress.

She immediately turned around and ran towards the phone pressing the number 1 for a few seconds until the voice of a soldier could be heard on the other hand.

"Army base 2-0-1, what can we do to help you?" A lady answered with a tired tone.

"I... I... My mom..." Margaret started to mumble, not finding the courage or strength to explain everything to the soldier. She felt a small hand grab her free one and noticed that her twin had joined her, squeezing her hand trying to tell her that she wasn't alone.

"Are you still on the line? Little girl?" The woman sounded a lot more worried than before as five years old Marg tried to find the right words.

"My mom, she tried to attack my twin. It wasn't my mom. It looked like her and it was her, but it wasn't my mom." She tried to explain fighting the urge to hug her brother that was standing next to her, she had to be strong right now.

"Did your mom... bite or scratch him?" The woman asked in a very cautious manner, almost scared of the possible outcome of the situation.

"No. I took a knife my daddy forgot on the table and killed her before she could do something bad." It was only then that realization hit her like a ton of bricks. "Oh, I killed my mom. She was going to attack my twin brother, I had to. I didn't want her to eat him like Georgia did the other day when the soldier was taking her away from her house." Marg voice started to crack as she felt tears fall down her cheeks, her heartbeat rising above the normal rate. "I- I had to defend my brother. I didn't want mom to eat him, I just wanted to..." She could no longer continue to talk and her twin grabbed the phone just as his sister's knees started buckling causing her to fall on the floor, frozen on the spot.

"Hello?" He spoke up trying to be stronger for his sister. "Yes, I am the one my sister saved. I swear, I don't know what it was. It wasn't mom, I know it wasn't."

Margaret couldn't hear anything else afterwards as she stood still until a couple of muscular arms engulfed her and brought her on the sofa while trying to soothe her.

She had never seen her father cry, not once. She remembered being checked by a group of soldiers who congratulated her as she had saved her brother from the 'worst death ever'. She remembered people coming inside their home, strangers, to take the body of the creature that was once her mom and to clean the mess. They too had congratulated five years old Marg.

Margaret didn't speak once, as she couldn't even understand why someone would congratulate her for having killed what was left of her mom. A brunette woman with kind eyes and smile had tried to explain to the redhead that her mom was gone already, a virus had taken control of her and what was left was just a body controlled by the virus' urges. She had promised the girl to visit her again, told her that she'd never let anything bad happen to her for she was the only young kid so 'selfless and courageous' to act like she did in a moment like that.

Days passed by and things seemed to go back to normal. The twins no longer played tag – their mom's favorite game – but settled for something that required less movement. They kept the curtains closed as per their dad's request and, slowly but surely, Marg had started talking again.

Her father had entered the twins' bedroom one day as they were getting ready to go to bed. He motioned for the Margaret and her brother to stand in front of him and kneeled down so he could look them both in the eyes before taking out a pair of pocket knives.

"Dad, what are those?" Marg asked while staring at what looked like a small block of wood. Her father smiled at her before flipping one on his right side until a sharp blade appeared from the middle of the wood only to quickly push it back inside.

"These are for you, one for you" He motioned to her twin brother, placing the knife in his hand. "And the other for you." He added while doing the same with the redhead. "They are the same, yet different, just like you two. You two are my biggest pride and joy. You are both courageous, stubborn, intelligent." He kept on talking as he took the twins' free hands in his own. "I want you to keep them with you at all times, no matter what or who you're around. Hide them well, but always keep them with you." The twins looked at each other, none of them could understand why their dad was giving them small knives to always keep on them, none of them had ever seen their dad such in a frenzy. "Remember, my babies, safety first. Always trust your gut feelings, always." He added before encouraging them to go to sleep.

That night, Margaret hid her knife in a pocket that had formed inside her pajama bottoms thanks to a loose thread, while her twin, after having given her a wink, had hid his in his right sock.

It hadn't even been a week after the whole ordeal that a group of people, all dressed in white, showed up at the door.

Their dad seemed happy to see them, as if they were all long lost friends. The only difference was that at the end of their chat, and the chat the group had with Marg and her twin, their dad came downstairs with two small suitcases, handing one to both of them and kissing their forehead.

"Daddy, what's going on?" The boy asked while little Marg kept on moving her gaze from her dad to the group of people dressed in white clothes.

"You are going to a safe place with these people. They are good people, they will make sure you're protected." The man explained while stroking Marg's and her twin's cheek.

"Who are they?" Marg, who had just lost her childhood a week beforehand by protecting her brother, asked without moving her eyes from those belonging to a blonde woman.

"They are part of a special group called WICKED. This," He pointed in the direction of the woman Marg was staring at, and already didn't trust. "is Ava Paige, she will take good care of you."

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  Margaret jolted awake in a sitting position. The sun was just starting to make its presence known and the fire, that was still burning when she first fell asleep, was now nothing more than a few crackling pieces of wood that spread nothing but smoke.

Her eyes scanned the rest of the group, everyone was still sleeping apart from Thomas who was now sitting on his own at the guard post they had selected the day before. She stood up and made her way toward the dying fire before stomping on the leftovers and killing it for good. Glad she didn't wake up anyone else with her actions, she walked toward the Leader of Group A and cleared her throat to make her presence known.

"Can I sit?" She asked once the brunette boy had turned his head to look at her, almost shocked that she was already awake.

"You didn't sleep much" He replied as a matter of fact before patting down on the sand next to him causing some of it to end up in his nose and making him sneeze. Marg had to stop herself from laughing, but gave up when she saw a small smile forming on the other Leader's face.

"I can't." She stated while sitting beside him. "The dreams..." She didn't have to add anything else as she had a hunch that Thomas knew where she was coming from.

"I am sorry about your friend, Levi." He almost whispered. "I know how you feel, I have lost someone I cared about as well and I still blame myself every day." He continued while toying with a small figure carved from wood.

"Was that his?" She asked jutting her chin toward the small object.

"Yeah. He-" Thomas stopped for a second before closing his fist around the figurine. "He would have made it out, he did. He was with us. Then someone from our Glade made it out after us and... He was stung and tried to kill me, but Chuck jumped in front of me to save my life." By now his voice was almost trembling and Marg knew he was probably replaying every single moment in his head as he told her what happened.

"It wasn't." She stated, receiving a confused glance from Thomas. "It wasn't your fault, Thomas. He believed in you, that's the only reason he would have done what he did. You must have been a good friend to him." The redhead leaned back, placing her hands in the already burning sand, but not caring about the slight discomfort caused by it having faced much worst. "Levi was a goner." She added, her mouth twitching slightly.

"A goner?" Thomas asked. She had managed to get his mind away from whatever was tormenting him. "And I thought our Maze had weird names." He chuckled before giving her a small poke in the ribs.

"Goners were the ones who wouldn't have survived a night in our Maze, running the whole time and killing Grievers. We only had the day to feel safe and, even then, sleep was something that came in shifts I organized." She quickly explained. "If it wasn't your shift to sleep, then you'd train with me, you'd help to create weapons to use against the Grievers, you looked out for any sign of another Sunshine - I mean, new kid - being sent in. Levi was a goner and I knew it from the very first time I laid my eyes on him, but I kept him safe. I wanted to protect him, he was like a brother to me."

"And WICKED took him away from you." Thomas finished, probably remembering that she had mentioned that he was among the ones who actually made it out of her Maze. "You're protecting Aris because something about him reminds you of your friend." Marg nodded while keeping her eyes trained in front of her. "You must have been a great Leader. I know that the others..." He stopped for a second, turning around to look at the group of sleeping teens, and Margaret didn't need to do the same to know that he was looking at Teresa, the girl probably not being fond of her just like she wasn't fond of the brunette. "Me and the others trust you. We need your help." She let out a small chuckle and shook her head.

"You are their Leader, Thomas." She pointed out.

"I am not... Listen, I don't care. You helped us, saved our lives more than once and I trust you." The tone of his voice was sterner than before.

"We'll help each other." She concluded by turning around and facing the brunette boy. "I am the last Survivor, and you are their Leader. We can join forces, lead them together." She could see it in his face, he knew that by the tone she had just used, the same one she used when someone in her Maze messed something up, he couldn't change her mind.

"Fine, then it's settled." He stretched his right arm forward and she was quick to squeeze his hand to seal the deal they'd just made.

"One thing, though." She added just as he was about to turn back to his previous position. "You and the others... you all need some training when it comes to fighting. You have good instincts, but fighting is more than just going head first, without any strategy or experience." He rose his right eyebrow, clearly confused by what she was saying. "Whenever we stop I need to train one or two of you guys, you need to learn how to fight." She concluded earning a quick nod from Thomas.

"Alby would have loved someone like you in the Glade." He added while trying to hide a chuckle.

"Newt told me the same thing." She replied while thinking back about her conversation with the boy with the weird accent, the boy she found herself trusting more than she'd ever expected.

"Yeah, well... I think Minho was right then." He let out a laugh loud enough to earn a few complaints from some of the members of their weird group.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" She cocked her head, few strands of red hair falling on her face that she quickly blew away.

"Nothing, nothing." He continued while smirking and shaking his head.

"Well, in that case." Margaret quickly jumped on her feet, an astonished Thomas on her side. "Time to wake up that snoring bunch. We need to get going." She didn't wait for the other boy as she strode towards the group of sleeping teens. "Wake up, you lot!" She yelled causing some of them to sit up startled by the sudden noise. "About time you all stopped snoring, we don't have all the time in the world to reach the mountains."

"And before we leave I want to add something." Thomas was now standing beside her looking at his friends, Frypan and Minho clearly squinting their eyes half due to the sun and half due to the way they had been awaken. "Margaret is gonna be..." He looked at the redhead who simply shrugged as he knew most of them better than she did. "... She is going to be one of our Leaders." He quickly added, scratching the back of his neck in a nervous manner.

She expected complaints, questions, anything but what came out of Newt who looked at his friend with a slight grin. "She's a fighter, you can't deny it, shuck face.". That statement alone earned a round of laughter, everyone seemed to agree with the boy with the weird accent apart from Teresa. Aris simply looked taken aback from the last two words used by Newt, yet he laughed along with the rest of the boys.

"Teresa, I need to speak to you for a second." Margaret spoke up quieting down the group of laughing teens. "Now." She added, almost like an order, before turning around and walking far enough from the rest of the group so they couldn't eavesdrop. The brunette girl followed her at a much slower pace, her fingers twitching nervously while one hand quickly brushed the back of her neck earning a confused look from the redhead who decided to simply let that new weird behavior be.

"What, why did we walk away from the others?" Marg smiled, the girl was trying to act tough by keeping her voice steady and pretending not to be intimidated by the redhead. She didn't know that Margaret had spent years learning all those tell tales in the Maze, as she had to in order to understand each Survivor better.

"Because." She started spinning around and taking a step toward the brunette in a predatory way. "You might be able to fool all of them, but you don't fool me.". The girl tried to answer but Marg simply raised her hand and continued. "You are hiding something, more than one thing I suppose, and you are scared to tell anybody else. Aren't you?" She took a step forward, now close enough to the brunette to hear her shaky breath. "I am telling you now, you better turn out not to be the double-faced person I think you are right now, because if you do, I am not gonna be as forgiving as others.".

"The only thing I want is for everybody to be safe." Were the first words that Teresa spoke to the redhead. "I don't want anyone to get injured again." Margaret squinted her eyes and scoffed.

"This better be the truth, because I don't deal well with traitors or liars, for the matter." She left the brunette standing, not adding a single word, as she made her way back toward the group of boys who were too concentrated on securing their backpacks once again.

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AUTHOR'S NOTE

Let the guessing games begin!

Who do you think is Margaret's brother? Did she meet him already and didn't have the courage to tell him? Will she ever meet him? Is he dead? Leave your guess in the comment!

Woah, so Marg didn't have it easy before being taken by WICKED, did she?

#MEWT moments overload!

Get ready because the next few chapters are gonna be filled with infos and surprises.

Thank you so much for all your amazing support! And this goes for the silent readers, for those who comment or vote or share. You are all absolutely fantastic people.

If there's any of you that felt inspired and wanted to create any type of fan art like gifs, trailers etc, feel free to do so. As I have said in there previous chapter: I am going to create a chapter at the very beginning where I am going to post everything and give credit to the artist.