WARNING: THIS POST CONTAINS MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THE KILL ORDER AND THE REST OF THE MAZE RUNNER SERIES
Epilogue Part Two: Permanent Parting
So... This was really it. As much as Deedee didn't want to go, she very well knew it was time. Hell, she'd taken more time than she should have - she had no more time to dilly dally. Wasn't that fitting? Deedee was just a girl out of time, in the end. Even if she didn't know that just yet. Her focus, at the moment, was simply on getting back to W.I.C.K.E.D. Even if that was the very last place that she wanted to be. So, with a silent sigh, the child of five finally pulled away from the embrace, her typical straight expression on her face.
Reaching to carefully take Henry's hand(if he let her), Deedee proceeded to move towards Lucina, feeling the sadness wash over her again. This needed to be quick... So, the moment that she reached the older girl, the child wrapped her arms around her in a wordless and brief- yet longing and passionate -hug. She never wanted to let go of this woman... Not after all that she had done for Deedee... But nothing lasted forever. Not even the best moments could stay too long. So, the child reluctantly unwrapped her arms from around Lucina, her burning blue eyes glancing between the three people who seemed to have become her very last friends.
"...I've got to go. Thank you.. All of you."
Goodbye...
Even if she hated what she was about to do with a burning passion as intense as the sun flares themselves, the child turned away without another word, the same word resounding over and over again in her mind. And she didn't look back - she
couldn't. No, looking back now would only drag her down. Make leaving even harder. And it was already so incredulously difficult for her that she didn't believe she could actually pull off leaving if she were to feel even a minuscule amount of more doubt. It was just like she had thought a mere few minutes ago - she wasn't strong. She never had been, and she had a feeling that regardless of how hard she tried, she never would be. All she was good at was putting herself and others watching over her in danger, and being a weak and defenseless little crybaby...
No. No. She couldn't think like that. So, the child squeezed her blue eyes shut tightly and balled her delicate hands into fists as she walked, trying to force such thoughts out of her mind. There was no time or place for such thoughts, after all. They'd only make the hurt much worse. Instead, she tried desperately to bring more positive thoughts into her mind, like... Like..... Like how Chrom had invited her to the wedding. She would see her friends again, after all! Yeah, maybe things weren't so bad for her, after all. And she was going to help the world now. That was a good thing.
The next thing that Deedee knew, she was standing in front of the portal provided to send each of the folk drawn to the place back to their homes. Or, in Deedee's case - the world she was born on. The child had no 'home' anymore. But that was the last thing on her mind - no, what she was thinking about was how scary the portal looked. It was as though she could just be sucked into some endless, empty abyss at any given moment, never to exit again. But, then again... She'd gone through the Flat Trans just fine. Surely this would end the same, right? So, with an abundant amount of hesitance, the child took another small step forward... And another... And another. Then, all of a sudden, she was somewhere completely different from Beatrice's realm - yet extremely familiar all the same.
...
...Cell. It was a cell, really. A room that was practically bare, meant to hold her down and render her unable to do anything but sleep and eat when she had meals brought to her by the strange people she'd been delivered to the doorstep of. It was an unsettling place to have to live, but Deedee certainly found any place that wasn't a basement within which she was being tortured was good enough.
Just as the little girl had expected the moment she'd turned away from her new friends, she suddenly felt her heavy-heartedness returning. It was extremely painful.. Having to leave her friends like that, that was. Having to be reminded what it was like to have friends when they only got taken away from her. But, at this point? It was quite obvious that that was all that would ever happen to her friends. All of them at this point had turned on her, been left behind, or- most commonly -had wound up dead. Maybe she was just forbidden to hav-...
Within seconds, the door to her 'cell' had been slammed right open - the slamming sound causing Deedee to jump slightly, her eyes widening like a deer caught in headlights. This occurrence had been completely unexpected from the girl, and she certainly hadn't been prepared for it. So, naturally, she wasn't exactly prepared for the enraged-looking man that was storming towards her with obvious anger in his eyes. "You!" he hissed, suddenly right in front of Deedee, looming over her. The child didn't respond, though it was unclear if this was just due to her typical quiet nature, because of how shocked she was, or just out of sheer fear. Regardless, it didn't stop the man in front of her from proceeding. "Where the hell did you run off to, you little brat?! Do you know how much trouble you've caused???" he continued, lips curled down in what may as well have been a snarl.
Nothing changed. The child just stood still in fear, trying to keep from shaking.
As though he were only further aggravated by Deedee's silence and lack of response, the man seemed to become even more mad. "Are you even
listening? You stupid kid.." the man growled, lowly. In response, Deedee cringed slightly, deeply hurt by the comment despite knowing she probably shouldn't be. Slowly and shakily, she finally moved, finding the envelope from Beatrice to hand over to the man in answer. "What the-...? Did you steal this? You know there isn't enough paper for you to waste it with your pathetic... Scribbles....." Funnily enough, the fellow's voice trailed off as he came to realize the letter wasn't composed of scriblles, and he actually read it carefully.
"..."
One would think- or, at least, Deedee did -that giving the letter would make this man relax. But, instead, the man went into a complete and utter
outrage. "You expect me to
believe this?!" the employee of WICKED demanded, radiating an anger that was comparable to that of a Crank's. Within moments, the man had bent down so that he was right up in her face, his nostrils flaring. "No, I know you snuck out somehow..." As though to emphasize, the man reached towards the ever-unfortunate little girl, gripping her firmly by the hair and thus making her yelp in pain and fear. "...and I'll
personally see to it that it
never happens again."
A small, pained whimper came from Deedee's lips, voicing her pain and agony. Luckily, the man finally released his grip on her with one final tug of emphasis, and the girl fell back on her rear trying to back away from him and put distance between them. This just earned a chuckle from the unfamiliar male. "You know how I'll do that? I could break those little legs of yours... Slam your head on the wall to knock you unconscious... Shock you any time you try to leave..." he went on, causing the little girl to involuntarily begin to tremble slightly. "...But I'm feeling nice, so I suppose I'll just stick with telling my co-workers to triple the security. Until Chancellor Michael himself says otherwise, you're never leaving this room. Got it, kid?"
If Deedee's heart hadn't already been shattered into a million pieces... It certainly had been, now.
The unfamiliar face looked like he had more to say, but his words were abruptly cut off, for he was interrupted by a woman casually peeking into the doorway. Upon seeing Deedee, she seemed to become somewhat cheerful. "Ah, so you found her! Wonderful job, Mr. Sanders," she commented, radiating a much more friendly air than the scary man. Who, at the woman's entrance, suddenly became wide-eyed. It didn't take much for Deedee to notice how his stature suddenly changed, and he tried to put on a false and equally friendly facade. "A-ah, of course! The kid sure knows how to wander off, huh?" he chuckled, before moving to pat the dark-haired child on the floor on the head. "I was just telling Teresa here that we'd have to tighten the security on her a bit and make sure there's a constant eye kept on her to make sure she stays
safe... Isn't that right, Teresa?' Something about the way the man said this made Deedee feel as though if she didn't answer the way the man wanted, she'd be in trouble. So, shakily, she gave a slight nod.
Flashing a bright smile and offering a nod of her own, the mystery woman seemed to understand the purpose behind this idea. "Brilliant idea. We wouldn't want lovely little Teresa here getting hurt, after all!" she stated, her words coming across as much more sincere than the man's. Seeming as though something had suddenly dawned on her, the woman moved closer to Deedee, kneeling in front of her with a bright smile before extending her hand to the five-year-old. "My name's Olivia Richodelle. Pleasure to finally meet you, Teresa. I've heard wonderful things about you."
With an unmatched hesitance, Deedee tried to give a nod of greeting and understanding, though it was difficult. She was never really taught the whole handshake thing, after all. Seeming to quickly realize this, Olivia retracted her hand, instead simply smiling at the little girl. "Don't worry, I understand if you don't want to talk. So..." Climbing to her feet, Olivia glanced to the alleged 'Mr. Sanders'. "How about we go alert everyone she's safe and sound again, hm? I'll go ahead and page the guards to return immediately." With that, the woman looked to Deedee one last time, offering one more smile. "I'll see you around, Teresa."
Deedee was unsure how long it took, after that, for the two to leave. She could hardly pay attention in all of her heartbreak - this was all just too much for such a short time. Losing Mark, Trina, Alec and Lana permanently, seeing so many people murdered, seeing Mark's corpse, making new friends and then being separated from them with plans having been made to see them one last time.... Only for the terrifying man to threaten her, yell at her, and then tell her she'd never leave this room.
So, despite her wish to never cry again... The little ravenette child found tears suddenly forming in her eyes after the odd pair had left, and the tears flowed freely from her stunning blue eyes. There were no sounds from the little girl, aside from the sound of her heart breaking.
------Two Years Later------
The table at which Teresa was sitting at was less than pleasant, to say the least. The room she was in was in a cold, dark room in WICKED headquarters. She had often noted that this place was always like this - cold and dark. She wasn't entirely sure just why this was, and it was something that the ravenette often pondered. Of course, there were lights hailing down from above the table, dangling just overhead. However, they hardly managed to break through the dreariness that the whole facility reeked of. Not to mention, Alaska seemed stubborn - as it, unlike the rest of the world, remained extremely cold. Any heat that the staff tried to produce throughout the place was futile. It was so cold that Teresa was shivering so hard that it was growing increasingly difficult to retain any sense of calm. Especially considering that the cold wasn't the only thing inducing nervousness and tensity in the seven-year-old.
It was odd, really - the female never thought that she could possibly miss the devastating heat of the world that had been destroyed by the Sun Flares. She missed the glow of it, and the bright light that made things feel slightly more bearable. But here... All there was in store for her was a biting cold, gloom and dreariness, and sheer emptiness. Even after the two years she'd been at the WICKED facility, she had yet to adapt to the depressing and cold atmosphere of the place. It was funny... She'd been there for more than a quarter of her life, and she still had found no friends. None at all, since Mark, Trina, Chrom, Morgan, Lucina and Henry. Since the mortifying incident that had occurred in that horrible place, where Teresa had witnessed real magic.
The only people around here were dull, serious, and even aggressive adults. A couple of them were nice enough - Olivia and Randall. Randall, himself, had promised the girl that she would have a friend soon, and then lots more as time went on. She wasn't sure how true this was, but that was why she was sitting in the unbearable dark, cold, and gloomy room - waiting.
After a long while, there was finally a knock at the door, followed by it opening slowly and quietly. How polite everyone there was(with a few exceptions) at least sparked a feeling that she mattered in her. It was a fleeting feeling that was quickly washed away by the recollection that she was nothing but a subject to these people.
Luckily for the pale child, she didn't have time to dwell on this, for someone had cleared their throat. Slowly, Teresa's blue eyes drifted to the figure that had entered, and she immediately began observing the woman. She was young and beautiful, though she had her hair up in a bun that made the child want to cringe. Her face seemed tight and serious, reminding Teresa briefly of Lana. The woman gave a small nod and the faintest trace of a smile, before abruptly speaking up, sounding as serious as she looked. "Thank you for waiting," the woman started. "We have someone we'd like you to meet and we're ready to take you to him. I was waiting for Chancellor Michael's final approval. Hence the delay," she explained.
In return, Teresa offered a small shrug, seeming rather indifferent. "I don't mind waiting," she assured, calmly. "But you didn't even tell me your name," she pointed out, clasping her hands in front of her neatly. These words garnished a look of shock from the woman, and she seemed taken aback. But Teresa was used to this - it was common that the grown-ups at WICKED seemed astonished when Teresa spoke to them. They still seemed to expect her to act like most children her age, it seemed.. And Teresa was the complete and total opposite.
"And I don't get why I haven't been allowed to meet Mr. Michael yet. I've been here almost two years. Don't you think I should get to shake hands with him?" she inquired, retaining her calm with ease.
There was a pause as the woman stammered, trying to get out a response with failure. But, finally, she pulled it together. "First of all, my name is Ladena. But that's not important. As for the Chancellor, he... has no need to meet you. He has his job and you have yours. Be happy that you live in such a safe place, with all the food you need. That should be enough." This response just made Teresa stare at the woman, her expression screaming that she was rather unhappy with this answer. It took a while, but the woman finally noticed what she'd done. "I'm... sorry," she apologized, sheepishly. "It's just... I'm not used to all this. I don't know how best to..."
"It's okay," Teresa spoke loud and clear, her voice laced with confidence. "I didn't expect anything different, I guess. I knew the Chancellor didn't want to see the kids he's asked to give away their lives. No big deal. But thanks for telling me your name." Funny how a girl who had been so timid and afraid had developed such sarcasm and sass. Clearly, judging by the brief look of shock followed by a look of anger from Ladena, the woman wasn't happy with this. "I used to think we were making questionable decisions. But not anymore. Not after I've seen what's going on out there in the world. I really think you should be thankful to be here, safe and sound. I think you should be very, very thankful," the woman stated, firmly.
"I never said I wasn't." Teresa responded, not hesitating to look right at Ladena. "I am thankful. And I don't think it matters what I think or you think about WICKED. There isn't a choice, is there? Sometimes you have to act or die," the girl continued, calmly. That was how all things were, in the end, weren't they? No choice in anything. It was always act or fall. Fight or die.
Ladena gave a very slow nod, a look of extreme confusion on her face. "You're quite smart for your age, aren't you? I honestly don't know what to make of it."
Tch. 'Smart for my age'... I don't think anyone could go through what I have and survive without getting smart, the girl mused to herself. "There's nothing to make of it. I'm just trying to talk to you like a normal person," Teresa explained with a small shrug.
"I don't think you're a normal person."
This comment caused Teresa to straighten up proudly. "Probably not," she stated with confidence. Was there ever such a thing as 'normal' in this crazy and cruel world, anyways? Teresa certainly didn't think so, but it was all a matter of opinion, in the end. Teresa did note that Ladena seemed to be studying her like some sort of specimen. "There's something special..." Abruptly, the woman shook her head, as though trying to clear it like she were some sort of Etch-A-Sketch. "What am I doing? I need to take you to where they're keeping the boy. It's time for you two to meet. They're saying he's the most qualified one they've found yet."
Admittedly, Teresa had grown rather sick of this woman already, anyways, so she was happy to move out. To demonstrate this, she moved to the door, waiting for Ladena to lead the way. In the meantime... She had more questions. Her thirst for knowledge could never be quenched, it seemed. "How many have they found?" she asked, steadily. There was a small pause from Ladena, but she responded after a moment. "A couple dozen or so. We've kept you all isolated so far. But the Chancellor has agreed that you and the boy are ready to meet. That both of you are going to be given... certain responsibilities."
In response, Teresa shrugged. She had taken to pretending that things didn't interest her much, when they, in truth, interested her a great deal. She quietly followed the woman into the hallway, which was just as cold and glum as the room the pair had left mere moments ago. "What's his name?" Teresa queried without warning. Ladena seemed to be growing weary, at this point. "They've called him Thomas."
Windows weren't exactly... Common, in the WICKED facility.
Young Teresa had a good guess as to why - they didn't want their subjects to get many looks at the outdoors, which was off-limits except on extremely rare occasions. If this weren't a good enough reason in and of itself, the world in which they lived was one where Cranks could attack at any moment. More windows would make it much easier for them to break in and spread the Flare - or worse. Though, Ladena happened to lead the seven-year-old past a narrow opening on the way to meet this Thomas guy, and Teresa refused to let opportunity pass without taking advantage of it. So, without so much as bothering to ask for permission, the child rushed over to it.
"Hey!" Ladena called to the girl. "We don't have time for that!" But the particular command held no authority—the woman obviously felt uncomfortable with the tasks she'd been assigned, and she didn't think she could mandate Teresa because of this. Seeming to ignore Ladena's commands, little Teresa pressed her nose to the absurdly cold glass and stared at the outdoor world, her breath causing condensation to form on the glass. On the left side of the outdoors, she could spot the concrete of the headquarters itself, going on and on until it was out of sight. To her right were bushes and a wide yellowed lawn trailed with walkways lined with light posts. At a greater distance was a fores - still alive and wild, wet with recent rains. Green and thick and majestic, hiding whatever lived within. It was almost unbelievable to Teresa, considering how different it was from the dry, burned-out woods that she had been so used to before she'd been shipped off to WICKED.
For the millionth time, she longed for the cruel and unforgiving place that had been home, regardless of how bleak it had been. Despite the horrors and suffering she'd seen- and been through -there, she longed for her mom and dad and brothers- even Ricky, regardless of how much he'd hurt her -, for all the people who had loved her before madness stole their light away, extinguishing it- and them -permanently. Before the... Well, the thought was cut off, for Ladena placed a hand on Teresa's shoulder, making the girl jump and spin around. It felt like she'd been standing at the window for hours, lost in her deep thoughts. "We have to go," the woman stated, softly, her voice now tinted with something that sounded akin to actual compassion. "They're waiting, and if we take much longer we could both get in trouble." Teresa felt a sudden burst of anger, all of it directed solely at the woman standing in front of her. But there was no reason for it, and it quickly faded into her usual who-cares attitude.
"Okay, I'm sorry," Teresa said, though she wasn't sure how much she really meant it. "Let's go meet this boy," she relented, easily putting up her typical facade. At this, Ladena smiled and led Teresa away.
Two men in suits were waiting at a closed door, with their hands clasped in front of themselves. Their gazes were practically glued to the wall behind Teresa and her escort, and if it hadn't been for their blinking eyes, it would have been easy to mistake them for statues. In Teresa's opinion, anyways. Ladena finally spoke, making the men(that Teresa assumed were guards) look at her. "We're ready to meet the boy," she stated in a low and timid voice.
"There'll be no 'we,'" the man on the left responded. The only difference between him and his counterpart was that their dark hair was parted on opposite sides. "You can go now. We'll take over from here." Teresa thought Ladena might be offended by the curt response, but instead she noticed that the woman looked overwhelmingly relieved. Turning to Teresa, the woman spoke up again. "You're even brighter than they said. I can just tell. There's something about you. Good luck. Truly, I mean it." With that, the woman reached out and squeezed Teresa's hand, then quickly scurried away, as if she were scared the men might change their minds and make her stay.
Teresa wanted to respond, to say something to let the woman know that even though it had been awkward between the two of them, Ladena had shown a little more humanity to her than anyone else had so far.. Aside from Olivia, the few times she had seen the woman. She had actually seemed
real. But, of course, nothing came out. Now she was left with both men staring at her as if she was supposed to decide what happened next. "Well?" Teresa finally asked after a long pause. "What are you waiting for? Shouldn't I go inside?" she asked further, feeling rather impatient. She was anxious, and the sooner she got to this, the better.
One of the men chuckled—Teresa had already forgotten whether he was the one who'd spoken earlier. "They said you could be a little fireball sometimes. Come on, then. In you go. McVoy is waiting for you." The man's partner reached over and pressed his hand against a pad on the wall. There was a click, followed by the door swinging open. Neither of the men moved, and Teresa wasn't in the mood to waste time, so without a word, she walked past them to enter the room.
It was an office, with nearly no furnishing with the bare-bones necessities of a work space. A desk, some shelves, a few chairs around a small table in the corner. The walls were completely bare. A woman with short, dark hair sat at the table, a boy sitting next to her that looked to be a year or two younger than Teresa, sitting with his hands in his lap, staring at a spot on the wall opposite him. He looked terribly afraid, and as though on the verge of trembling. His eyes flickered up at Teresa for a brief moment, but quickly returned to the wall. His hair was a sandy brown, and his face terribly sunburned.
The boldness Teresa had been feeling vanished. She suddenly felt scared herself, and hopelessness welled up inside her. She didn't know why, really, but she suddenly wanted to turn around and leave. Maybe it was because of her bad history when it came to her friends. Or maybe something entirely different. "Have a seat," the woman at the table commanded, pointing to a chair directly across from the young boy. Not harshly, but not kindly, either. "We have a lot to talk about." The woman hadn't finished her sentence before one of the men from outside closed the door behind Teresa. It startled her, and she was ashamed that she was showing her nerves. Trying to make up for it, she walked over and sat down at the table, choosing the chair right next to the boy instead of the one the woman had indicated. A small act of defiance, but at least it was something. No, Teresa would never submit to these people. To these
monsters. Anything she could do to defy their wishes made her feel proud and confident.
"My name is Katie McVoy," the woman said "And..." She looked to the boy, then reached over and tapped him on the shoulder - something that Teresa recognized quite clearly as a silent and expectant demand. The boy looked to Teresa, almost hesitantly. "My name is... Thomas. I'm glad to be here, glad to serve WICKED. I'll do whatever they need me to do so we can find a cure for the virus." Teresa had never heard anything that sounded so dreadfully forced in her life. But she wasn't exactly surprised. It'd probably be a while before the boy was brave enough to let his true self shine through in front of the WICKED staff.
"My name's Teresa," she said back to him, trying her best to sound as warm as she could. "Don't worry. It's not so bad around here. And the food is pretty good. Plus we're safe from the... you know," she added, deciding to avoid direct mention of the Cranks as to assure she didn't scare Thomas at all. "The Cranks?" Thomas asked. "The crazy people?" Teresa nodded slowly. The sadness in the boy's voice was heavy, and she could feel it's weight settling on her shoulders.
"My dad was a..." The boy faltered, but then a little strength showed up and Thomas straightened in his seat. "He was a Crank. And my mom would've been soon. I'm glad we're going to help people like them. And stop it from happening anymore," he continued. "Me too," Teresa said, feeling a little speechless for some reason. McVoy let out an exasperated sigh, then leaned forward, putting her forearms on the table. "I can tell the two of you are going to get along just fine. Which is a very good thing, because you're going to see an awful lot of each other. You've both been chosen to be an integral part of our plans over the next few years. You'll play a role that is extremely important, and you should be proud of yourselves for being selected." Teresa was tempted to say a lot of things, still wanting to show that she wasn't intimidated by this woman - but curiosity overcame all else and she waited for more.
"We're going to make you both even more special than you already are," McVoy continued. "You'll be leaders over the other immune children. You're going to help us prepare the tests and trials, help us train and prepare the subjects. To that end, and for many other reasons you'll come to understand later, we'll be implanting devices in your heads that will allow you to communicate with each other in a way that's never been done before." Teresa had a million questions she wanted to ask, but she didn't know where to begin. The woman looked like a proud mother. "Soon we'll begin the largest and most important phase of the tremendous task ahead. And we expect both of you to be a big part of the project," the woman explained, sounding as smug as she looked. "What is it?" Thomas asked, his voice sounding childish to even Teresa, herself. McVoy smiled. "The Maze, Thomas. You and Teresa are going to help us build the Maze."
~~~
A few hours later, Teresa sat on a couch with Thomas, all alone. They'd changed her living quarters, putting her in a room that was nicer and bigger, with the tiniest window at the top of one wall. Natural light filtered through, and to Teresa, it seemed like light from heaven. Thomas was in a room similar to hers, and a living area of sorts was located between them, with furniture and a small kitchen. Even a screen for entertainment, though Teresa guessed that they'd only see things related to training them for what lay ahead.
And now, here they were, new friends. Granted, it wasn't as though either of them had much of a choice in the matter. It was pleasant, for Teresa - a refreshing taste of kinship she hadn't known for a long, long time. Maybe, just maybe, if she were lucky... It would actually last this time. Maybe she'd found a new light that could light up her dark and dreary life, after all. "She said they're going to put devices in our heads," Thomas said, out of the blue. "What does that even mean? Who goes around putting devices into kids' heads?" This earned a sincere laugh from Teresa, surprising herself just as much as Thomas—judging by the look on his face. "What?" he asked her, tilting his head like a confused puppy.
"Oh, nothing. Just something about the way you said that. Who does go around putting things in kids' heads? WICKED, I guess," she mused, snickering slightly at the thought. WICKED was quite the facility... "What does that name mean, anyway? Why are they called that?" the more naive boy asked Teresa, making Teresa purse her lips. "Someone told me there's a reason for everything around here and one day we'll understand. But it does stand for something. World In Catastrophe: Killzone Experiment Department. You know what the killzone is, right?" the young girl asked. "Yeah." He tapped his right temple. "Where the Flare makes you go nutso," he answered, though he didn't seem the most confident. "Yep." A dark look passed over Thomas, and Teresa remembered what he'd said about his mom and dad.
"So both of your parents got it, huh?" she asked. Thomas nodded, seeming as though he might cry for just a fleeting moment, but he gathered his bearings. "I was scared to death of my dad. Before they finally took him away, I was pretty sure he'd just walk into my room and kill me one night. I'm kind of glad I never have to see my mom turn into a Crank like that." Well.. Didn't Teresa know what
that was like. "You're pretty tough for a kid," Teresa commented. And she actually meant it - she was impressed. "Kid?" Thomas repeated, wrinkling his nose. "Who're you calling a kid? You're not that much older than me."
"Like I said," she responded with a small smile. "You're tough. Look at you. Most kids our age would be bawling their eyes out still." Thomas scoffed in response. "I'm not scared to cry. I've cried pretty much every day since my dad started going crazy. And I'm not scared to be here. I've seen what that stupid disease does to people, and if they think I can help them, then it's a lot better than being put in a creepy old orphanage." Yeah... Teresa found herself liking this boy more and more. Maybe she
did finally have a friend, after all. "When did you find out you were immune?" she asked him.
"They came and tested me when my dad caught the virus. I thought it was just normal, to see if my mom and I had it, too. I didn't even know you could be immune back then. When they told us I thought they were joking. They seemed like the kind of jerks who would do something like that," he answered. "How'd it feel when you found out?" In response, Thomas looked at the floor, guilt flashing over his features. This only further piqued the older girl's curiosity. "What?" Teresa pushed, hoping for an answer. His eyes found hers, and suddenly, it felt as though she'd known him since they were born. Like he was her brother. "What?" she asked again, trying to keep her annoyance out of her voice.
"I was excited. Really, really excited. All I could think about was how I didn't have to go through all the crap that my dad did and my mom would. It made me... happy," he explained. "So? What's wrong with that?" Teresa asked, sincerely curious as to how the boy would answer. Thomas shrugged. "All I cared about was myself. Even when they took me away and I had to say bye to my mom, I still kept thinking that I was lucky because I wouldn't have to watch her go through it all. And glad that I was going to be okay."
"Sheesh," Teresa groaned. "So you're a normal human. Anybody would think that stuff. Stop beating yourself up about it." It wasn't that Teresa was trying to sound mean, but this boy didn't need to go around thinking that he was just some-... "I'm a selfish brat. My mom needs me and I basically couldn't wait to get out of there," the boy sighed, twiddling his thumbs. At this, Teresa rolled her eyes slightly. "Oh, please. You're telling me that you don't miss your mom? That you don't love her?" Thomas shook his head slowly. "No. Not saying that at all. I miss her so bad it hurts. I'm just... I didn't want to go through that again."
"Exactly." Teresa reached out and tenderly patted Thomas's arm. "You're normal and honest. I'm glad they stuck us together to do... whatever it is they want us to do," she replied with a small smile. "Yeah." It was only one word, but somehow Teresa could tell he was conveying a lot. That he agreed with her, that he was glad to be there with her, and that he hoped they could be friends and make a difference. Help WICKED accomplish the task of finding a cure for the Flare. The young boy leaned back on the couch and folded his arms. "You keep asking me all these questions. What about you? Where'd you come from? What's it been like for you?" Thomas asked her, radiating curiosity.
"I... kind of hate talking about it," she admitted, hoping that would get Thomas to leave the subject be. "Well, so do I. But I did." Pursing her lips thoughtfully, the girl gave a small nod in response. "Yeah, you did. It's good, I guess, to hear about it from someone else. But... mine is kind of a crazy story," she stated, calmly. She grew silent, knowing that Thomas wouldn't let her get away with it for long - no matter how much she dreaded the idea of telling her story. She was right. "Well?" he asked. "I'm waiting. Who doesn't like a crazy story?" Thomas smiled at her, and Teresa gave a small smile back. "My name was Deedee before I came here," she began, finding herself missing the family she'd had that had given her that name with a burning passion. And without reluctance, she told Thomas the rest.
------Eleven Years Later------
It was complete chaos. Carnage. Destruction, suffering, and insanity. Those were a few choice words that came to Teresa's mind while thinking about the currently unfolding events. Sure, she and Thomas and the others had rescued the trapped Immunes from the Mazes, but this mission wasn't over just yet. They still needed to get to the Flat Trans to Paradise, before things were too late... Or Janson found them and hurt Thomas. Teresa had only ever wanted to help find a cure for the disease that was terrorizing the world... But there was no such thing. Letting these people try to take them back for further experimentation would only bring about further, unneeded pain and suffering... And Teresa wouldn't allow anymore of that if she could help it. Ever.
So, naturally, as they ran through the quickly collapsing and dangerous facility, she found herself glancing at the others very often to make sure they were alright. It was just the same as when she'd been a kid... Always fight or die. And she wouldn't let any more people die if she could help it. There had been enough suffering, horror, and pain in this world that it was high time for it all to be put to an end. But that was why they were destroying WICKED, now... Wasn't it?
The Glader struggled to get deep breaths as she ran, hoping to keep from worrying too much about what could happen if they failed. She couldn't let these people down... Not now.
Especially not Thomas.
So, she kept running, not so much as uttering a word. After all, she didn't need to further upset her best friend - he already hated her. She could feel it, even when he wasn't demonstrating the hate he'd held for her ever since she'd saved his life through reluctantly 'betraying' him. After all, WICKED had told her that if she hadn't, they'd kill him. So, naturally, she had to save his life despite knowing he'd despise her for it. So, what happened next was only natural, really.
Out of the corner of her brilliant blue eyes, the ravenette spotted something - a large amount of rubble beginning to tumble just ahead... Right where Thomas was paused. For the next couple of moments, it was like everything was moving in slow motion. Teresa felt like, despite her pushing herself to run as hard and fast as she could in a burst of speed she didn't realize she had, she couldn't move quite fast enough. Hell, she was hardly thinking - she was just acting by her heart. And she wouldn't let her best friend die, no matter how much he hated her.
So she shoved him with harsh force, feeling the weight crash into her mere seconds later.
It was unbearable, the pain that suddenly shot through her entire body. She was immediately slammed to the floor by the rubble, her entire being pinned under it with it slowly crushing her. Most prominently, Teresa felt- and heard -her arm crack.
Broken... she thought to herself, her eyes squeezing shut tightly in pain. The experience was absolutely crushing, and the young woman found that she could hardly stay aware of what was going on around her. All she could recognize was the immense amount of pain.... She couldn't even realize that Thomas was screaming her name. Her vision was blurred, but she could faintly make out a form crouching by her, looking her over frantically.
Thomas...
"I'm so sorry," he whispered to her, though Teresa had to strain her ears to hear the words. For a few moments, Teresa- blood streaking her face(which, along with one arm, was the only thing sticking out from under the rubble) -struggled desperately to form words, but found doing so excessively difficult. She noticed Thomas had leaned closer to hear her, which encouraged her to try harder. Finally, her words came out in a hoarse, faint whisper. "Me... Too....." she murmured, weakly.
There was a slight pause, but she didn't waste any time with trying to say the rest. She could already feel the life seeping out of her, her time running out once and for all. But, for the sake of Thomas, she wrangled a small smile onto her pale and draining face. "I only ever... Cared for...." Whatever more that she was going to say, Teresa couldn't get it out, because everything was fading to black - her final word fading into nothingness. The same could be said for Teresa, herself.
And then she was gone.
...But, for Teresa? This was only the beginning.
------Now------
A lot had happened, since Teresa's death. She had lost all of her memories involving Thomas, and when she had been given her memories of her life back by WICKED, the recollection of the insane events of Beatrice's game had been left behind as well. She didn't realize it, but she was missing a lot of pieces to the puzzle that was her existence. That didn't matter to her, though - she'd helped defeat two threats to the multiverse, had became a Reaper that worked under the Angel Joshua as his Conductor, made a handful of new friends(
and way too many love interests :|), and a lot more. Life was even more insane, now... But that wasn't holding Teresa back. Her goal was all the same as it had been before she'd been turned into a Reaper.
Protect anyone and everyone she could.
-
continued here-
~THE END..... OR IS IT?-