THE RENEGADE.

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WICKED DREAMS (book one).
°•        INTRODUCTION        •°

"        DO YOU STILL
TRUST US?       "

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"STOP!" She heard them scream from a good distance behind her, but she doesn't comply to their command. She refuses. If she does... She can't think about what will happen. She ran faster and faster, her heart racing so quick that she can feel it beating in her throat, her legs pumping, and her raven hair flying behind her. She can hear the guards dashing after her, their heavy boots hitting the clean marble floor. She didn't know what their orders were just yet. Were they going to shoot and kill? Or just take her into custody, let her die later? Brainwash her like the rest? She can't let it happen. But then again, she can't run much longer.

"Maya! If you don't stop, we'll shoot!" Another shouts in a warning.

Her blood runs cold, hearing the voice boom off the hallways. She can feel her body fill with terror. Was there an alarm ringing yet, signaling her betrayal, or for her going straight for the lab? She thinks the lights are flickering, but maybe it's because everything is going blurry.

A sudden, very loud sound ripped through the air. Her heart possibly stopped at the sound, but white-hot pain fires up her leg. She hears herself cry out, stumbling, unable to move. Her hand flew down to cover the bleeding injury fresh above her knee. She pressed her other hand flat against the wall, her palm cold when it meets metal.

Someone was helping her. The world around her was black, maybe she shut her eyes? But she feels strong hands gripping her upper arms, hauling her, having to practically carry her. Her leg had gone limp, even moving it an inch causes fiery pain. She can't run, much less walk. Whoever is helping her is whispering to her - saying her name, maybe? Maya? Before she's dragged into a room, she hears the door locked, and she's lifted onto a table.

When she opens her eyes, she processed two people whispering in angry voices. Her head feels heavy and achy as it lolled to the side, blinking, seeing the blurry figure of one male and one female. She can't hear them, she doesn't think. All of her senses were fading. The only thing she can make out is the girl who leaned over her and spoke to her softly as if she was a frail thing in her eyes that had to be cared for. As if she was her responsibility to care for.

"Maya, we're going to help you. I know... I hope... You'll remember..." She inhaled deeply. "Do you still trust us?"

She just barely feels herself weakly nod back. She felt it in her to always trust them. It's as if she is suddenly slipping closer and closer to the blackness dotting her vision, that she doesn't remember being rolled onto her chest. Her muscles, on instinct, tense when she feels a pinch in the back of her neck and a prick of her arm and suddenly, drowsiness fills her system. The last thing she hears is the female speaking.

"Iris, a messenger from Greek Mythology. Subject A3... The Renegade."

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When dark brown eyes fly open, the first thing she ever does is let out a curdling scream. Her leg is bent underneath her, and when she stretches it out, she screams again. Agony is licking up the limb, shooting up to her chest, making her heart rate pick up.

And it doesn't go away.

A shaking hand reached down to press against the source, but she can't see in the darkness, only feeling a warm liquid stain her palm. She sobbed and gasped, flying up into a sitting position, feeling her back hit a wooden box. She was like a wounded animal, frightened, eyes wide and bleeding out. She's in a moving box made of metal and she only knew it because she recognized the creak. Alone.

"Help!" She still frantically screamed. Her voice was high pitched and unfamiliar to her. "Help me! Please!" She doesn't know who she's begging for help too. If anyone is out there and heard her, there's no answer. Only the unforgiving box carrying the wounded girl up further and further.

She squeezed her eyes shut, almost hyperventilating, realizing there was absolutely nothing inside of her head. She knew how to speak, all of the basic needs of life, but nothing beyond that. She can't figure out how she ended up in the moving box with a painful wound in her limb, or anything of her life. Nothing was there. If she wasn't panicking before, she was now, and she wanted to scream again, but nothing comes out yet from her state of horror.

Then one thought crashed into her mind. It was there for a second before it faded, so she had to think so hard that it hurt her head, but it came back, clear as day. It was the spark of hope she needed to stop panting.

"Iris," she whispered into the open air, the name shaky, but she was positive. It was her name - she was Iris, a girl in some kind of running elevator with blood cascading down her leg's fresh wound. And if she doesn't figure this out soon, she knows she's going to bleed out. Iris desperately racked her mind again, desperate for any other fact, but nothing comes out. It's alone. She's alone.

All of a sudden, a light shone above her, a bright red that illuminated her features. Iris jumped at the sight, her lower lip trembling in fear. The box seemed to be moving faster and faster, and for a moment, she feared she was going to crash. But instead, the movement stopped completely, the jerk of the enclosed box causing Iris to topple over, landing on her side with a pained cry.

The light flashed to a green glare. She's blinded for a moment. There's another creak when the ceiling above Iris opens, making her head snap back to peer out, and a light so bright it burns her eyes when it poured in. She squinted, struggling to adjust past it, wanting to squirm away from it, but she can't move with her leg. Iris hears a few soft gasps from others before a chorus of shocked voices.

"Is... Is that a girl?"

"No way, it can't be!"

"Look for yourself, shank!"

"Should we be worried?"

"Enough!" A louder one called over the surprised chatter.

Iris didn't count how many were speaking, but if she had to guess, there were only four or five boys looking down at her.

When her gaze finally adjusted to the new light, she can see she's right, and a dark-skinned male who held a firm statue, authority-like had stood above her, looking down with his hands on his eyes. "She's hurt, see the blood? Get her out."

There's a huff before a body jumped in, the box rattling with the new weight. Iris nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound. He's tall, his very short hair almost blond with a hard stare, but his eyes holding a conflict of surprise with how he tries not to let the emotion show. Iris is frozen in place, intimidated, and scared out of her mind. As soon as his hands brush against her arm, she curled away, eyes wide in distrust like she was afraid he'd hurt her.

He frowned at the reaction. "Hey, I'm just trying to help," he defended, his tone low. "You can bleed out here if you'd like, or join us."

It isn't too difficult to mull over what little options Iris had now. She took a single, quick glance to her leg, seeing a prominent hole ripped in the black denim, nearly damp with her blood. She won't be able to get out of the box on her own or even fix it. When he reached down to help her again, Iris doesn't back away like before, putting her arms out and letting him grip them both to tug her up.

The second Iris puts weight on her leg, she cried out again, strained and staggering against him. He quickly caught her, arms bent underneath her. He seemed strong enough to hold her. "Alright, I'll need some help," he called up to the other boys. Iris is lifted into the air by him, two prepared to grab her arms and pull her up followed by her grunts of pain.

Iris feels small under all the eyes on her when she meets fresh, green grass. Clean air fills her lungs. She sees that she's in a field, views of wooden structures scattered around. That's all before she is laid back onto a flat, wooden post, and she's staring straight at a blue sky with white clouds.

"Wait," Iris is whispering in protest, voice hoarse, paralyzed with fear. She still doesn't understand what's happening, where she is, who these boys are -

She attempted to sit up, but a hand pressed on Iris's shoulder, keeping her still. She couldn't thrash or fight back if she tried. She tilted her head back to see it's the same man who ordered her to be helped. He must be in charge, she thought. His features are stony, but his grip is gentle on her shoulder. "I know Gally wasn't too friendly-" Iris heard a faint, offended noise, "But his words were true. You're one of us, girl or not, and we'll make your leg good as new," he promised.

Iris didn't know what it was that made her feel safe. Maybe it was the way he looked at her calmly, or the stirring in her gut that relaxed her. She somehow felt as if she belonged here. She submitted, allowing the strangers to lift the flat post up and carry her away. Iris felt crazy - she didn't know them, didn't know anything really, but she doesn't have any choice. It's her last thought crossing her mind before she had rested her eyes for a split second, unaware that she surrendered completely to the darkness and fell unconscious, not knowing that the world around her had become her new life.

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author's note:

ahhh it's here.

i've probably had this idea for about two years, i think? roughly. and i finally had the confidence to post it. idk why teresa is hated so much in tmr fandom when she's probably my favorite overall. she's the best, y'all are just mean.

anyway this will kinda be a mix of the movies and books? like, there'll be some hints from the books but for the most part i'm using the movie storyline. i do that mostly because james dashner is really bad at describing things and thomas as the point of view of a brick wall. the movies are just easier.

thank you for reading! ❤️ i'm so excited to get this thing rolling.

- koda

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1.6k.
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