CH. TWENTY - FIVE
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"Add that to the way Gally was also a bit confused, and we can both forget about it and happily continue living," she finishes.

Fry tilts his head. Hums. "Well, you're both pretty... marked by it. You sure—"

"Half of the time, I can't even stand him!" Joan slams a hand against her forehead. "So I don't know why I kissed him while I also could've... pressed my hand on his mouth to make him stop breathing!"

"Now that's why you shouldn't deny your feelings."

"I'm not denying them," she says. "I'm... ignoring any tingles I ever get. Which are, by the way, none. Barely any butterflies around him."

He chuckles. "Both of you are stubborn, perhaps got some anger issues, got stung, and you're constantly forced to feel each other's feelings. Of course that doesn't match the greatest of all."

"See!" She nods heavily. "If he would've been a sunshine—"

"That's not what I was trying to say, but alright."

"Why would I kiss a guy I can't stand?" She continues. "Like, I've beaten him up! He has beaten me up! And then why kind of talked it out, but our talks and interactions still go way differently than my talks with Camil or you or Newt."

"Oh, let's see. Hm, maybe that's because unlike you and Gally, we're not in love... or attracted to each other... or anything close to that." A grin grows on Fry's face as he takes a bite off his sandwich.

"But I'm not in love with him," she says.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night."

"Well, not him! He keeps having nightmares that wake me up, too."

"Perhaps making out for a while will solve your problems."

A grunt leaves her mouth. "You're not helping."

"Alright. Fine. Then ignore it and continue living. Tell him it was meant to stop his panic attack."

"It was to stop his panic attack. It was the first thing I could think of to make him stop breathing! But obviously, kissing someone is not nothing so now we can't pretend it was just to stop the panic attack."

"You can, though." He shrugs. "Besides, if you can't stand him, why bother it so much? I assume that if you dislike him, you won't hang out with him all the time."

"Alby keeps giving tasks that force me to work with him," she groans. "But sure. I'll keep that in mind."

❀

"Good news!" Her father comes walking in her room with a big smile.

The girl looks up. She's sitting on the wooden floor, tubes spread in front of her. Her hair's messy from attempting to make a serum, and beads of sweat drop down her forehead.

Her room isn't that special. It's a square, with a bed and a desk, the walls old. Mold might've gotten between the wood by now, but she can't help it. This building looks abandoned, so it's a good place to stay hidden from outside dangers.

Perhaps kind of hard to hide with more than forty people, but hey, they're all surviving.

"Mom is coming back," he announces, cheeks bright from happiness. "She no longer wants to work at WCKD. She's coming home soon, honey!"

Her mouth drops open. "Oh my god!" And she jumps up, attacking her father with a hug.

It's been years since she had seen her mother. At first, she was free in the weekends and sometimes took days off work, but the company soon started taking all her time in, to the point where she lived in the building and no longer saw her family.

"Maybe she can help with my serum," she says excitedly. "It's against the Cranks."

"You give it to yourself or the Cranks? Both?"

"The Cranks," she says. "It'll kill them."

"Oh, honey, perhaps it's not a good idea for a ten year old to mess with deadly chemicals," he warns, attempting to take her stuff, but she slaps his hands away.

"Wait." Realization makes her eyes widen. "I promised Gally and Minho mom would help! If she's leaving, she can't—"

"Maybe it's best that those kids stay where they are," her father recommends. He crouches in front of her. "Remember? We'll be saving them in a few years, when everything is settled."

"Has Lawrence finished the security system yet?" She wonders. "That'll help."

"Lawrence and his little crew fled." A sigh. "Apparently, he's been planning to start his own 'cult' for a while. Left us for his own good."

"Oh." Disappointment makes her face fall. "Well, he'll die. He's infected."

"He took your serums," her father adds. "And the paper with ingredients. Meaning, if he always uses that serum, all the time, he'll survive."

"He stole my things?" Her voice raises, just like anger does. "He stole what I worked so—"

"Sh, lower your voice."

"HE ST—"

❀

Groaning, she awakes. Takes the notebook she claimed a while ago and writes what she saw down. Lawrence, her mother, serums, Cranks, whatever those are, and what her father looks like.

Blonde, goatee, v-neck, few wrinkles. Sketching his face doesn't work since she's not the best at drawing, but hopefully this is enough to remember him if she ever happens to see him again.

Though he's probably dead. From when they got bombed. And her mom no longer worked for the Creators, so she was also in the building when the bombs got dropped.

Ha, they're both probably dead.

And the Creators go by 'WCKD'. The same name as on their supplies. WCKD. What can that mean?

Well, wicked this is for sure.

Shaking her head, Joan walks out of her hut. It's early in the morning again. A morning swim sounds good. She should ask the Box for a swimsuit, though.

Slightly perked up, she makes her way to the lake with a towel in her hands. Puts her stuff down besides it and dives into the cold water.

Goosebumps form everywhere, yet it's refreshing. She rubs sleep out of her eyes, stretches, and then starts swimming around a bit. Now and then, she tries to hold her breath as long as possible.

She stops when there's a movement. A few feet away from her, bubbles are rising and pop once they hit the air.

Frowning, she swims back a bit. Looks around. Was the water always this dark? No, it was clear before. Super clear. Now it's... black.

Panic starts to form when she feels how thick the liquid is. A metallic smell makes her nose scrunch. Thick, black... blood?

She's too taken aback to even get the thought that this might be a hallucination. Yelping and spatting around, she tries to make her way to the surface, but the thick liquid won't allow her to. It sucks her underwater, clawing at her legs and trying to catch her arms.

They do. Strings of black wrap around her arms like rubber bands and start pulling. She gasps before she's underwater. Kicks wherever she can and makes it out of the water, taking one breath before she's pulled back in.

At first, she only sees blackness. Then eyes appear. Not one pair, but at least a dozen. They all stare at her. Some are darker than others, but they all have something evil, and it frightens her.

She screams. The sound fades into the water and bubbles are the only thing that make it to the surface. One of the things in front of her has wrapped its hands around her neck. It pulls her deeper and deeper underwater.

Laughs echo in her ear. Choked-on words. It's like the voices she hears in her dreams. The ones that she can't see, but does hear. Now she can both see and hear them.

Its still pulling. Turns his head at her, revealing a giant grin on an ugly face. Rotten teeth, black veins as if he's going through the Changing, and more black liquid streams out of his mouth.

She screams again, a ton of the liquid entering her mouth and making her choke. Her attempt to cough it out fails; only more liquid enters her mouth. It's so thick that she can't swallow it away, and she's somewhat suffocating as he pulls her deeper and deeper, as if the black lake is endless.