The Complex

Chapter One - Like The Dead

I was turning eighteen today. In exactly five minutes, the mono-coloured mute clock that hung lifelessly on the wall space between my roommates and I's bunks would strike dead on twelve and the norm of silence would be broken by a siren wailing. It was meant to wake us all, but only the dead or the stupid slept the night before their birthday. Most lay in bed, thinking and wondering and hoping for different outcomes as they stared blankly at the plain ceiling.

 I lay in bed with my eyes fixed on the clock, just waiting. There wasn't much else I could do. The door to the small rectangular bunk room had been locked since lights out at eight, made evident by the angry red light shining by the handle, and even if I had tried to run, there was nowhere to go. Outside the door was a corridor, filled with other doors holding captive other people, and then beyond that corridor was a large opening with tall glass windows reaching hundreds of feet up into the air and tens of armed guards just waiting for someone stupid enough to try and escape. Although, I was almost sure the thought had crossed everybody's mind.


I wasn't afraid though; it was merely my fight or flight response at being locked in my bunk.


Four minutes left. I'd never heard the siren before, but I couldn't help but wonder if it would wail any louder than the people who'd cried their way through the last four hours, knowing they're fate. Knowing it as much as they could, I guessed, because none of us had ever turned eighteen before and therefore, none of us had ever faced the Changing. So what I knew, what we knew, we learned from the snippets and whispers of information the Scouts found out. Fay was a Scout, and it showed. Her easy glare and sharp tongue made of tactical lies where just the trademark of their group. It was helpful to have her in my bunkroom though, because despite my lack of trust in her ability to keep my secrets, she had no problem spilling other people's either. That's what the Scouts were – spies and thieves of information, generally for the benefit of everybody in our Ward. And – sometimes – purely for the benefit of themselves.


Three minutes were left. It was strictly forbidden to separate the people in Wards by something other than their names and genders, but with all the other rules, most people decided to forget about that one. Although, no one knew who started the Divisions. It just sort of caught on years ago and now, my Ward knew nothing different. Fay was a Scout, Erin an Empath, and I was an Insentient. There were more groups, around twenty in each, but to my knowledge there was only a few Insentients.


Two minutes were left. I heard the sniffing of Erin below me and the sound of fabric shuffling as I imagined she went to brush away the river of tears from her face. I felt the movement of the bunk as she shuffled nervously, earning a weak glare from Fay who lay on the opposite bunk. Our gazes met, but no emotions were exchanged before we both looked away once more. Showing emotions was frowned upon, but sometimes people like Erin couldn't help it. Fay and I, however, we could. Our bodies resembled the positions of the dead, hands resting solemnly on our stomachs, eyes wide, skin pale, fear frozen at maximum level with no symptoms showing.


One minute. The clocks mocking hand ticked by, slower than ever, as my eyes traced its movements. My heart was pounding painfully against my ribs and my fingers twitched where they rested, but all I could do was lay still and wait. It felt like I had spent the last eighteen years of my life doing just the same. Waiting for that day.


The clock's hands struck twelve and froze.


The noise was blinding, unlike anything I had ever heard before. It echoed through my head as my hands shot up to cover my ears, to no effect, and I writhed in pain. The sound was like a high pitched whistle, but it was hard to tell through the sounds of screams around me. It wasn't just Erin, but people from other bunkrooms and perhaps even another Ward that I could hear. Fay and I remained silent, but I could see her fighting back tears of pain as she twisted and turned on her slab-like bunk. I felt my nails cutting into my palms as I tightened my hands into fists by my ears, shoving my face into the flat pillow resting lifelessly on the bunk in an attempt to drown out the sound.

The people in charge hadn't always been so violent towards those in the Ward, but the older we got, the more birthdays we had, the worse it got. They were impatient to achieve their goals, but the Complex was still home for us and very few could bring themselves to hate it.

Steadily, my breaths quickened till I thought my lungs might burst from the movement and then everything stopped.

Silence surrounded me once again, but this time, I couldn't hear Erin's crying or Fay's shuffling. There were no screams of pain, or sirens wailing. My gaze turned to Fay who was gradually lifting herself up into a sitting position, her pitch-black hair falling in front of her wincing face. It looked as though every move she made hurt, yet she still had the energy to turn and shoot me her infamous glare. Her mouth moved, forming words that I couldn't hear.


"I can't hear you" I said, breathless. "It must – the noise must've done something to my hearing. What about you?"


Fay stared at me with her mouth agape and eyes wide; I could see her fear. She afraid it was permanent. She was afraid that that was the Changing. The door hadn't unlocked, no continuation had been made, and maybe that was really all that would happen. For once, she didn't have any secrets to spill that could make her feel better. I turned to switch my gaze to the clock – it was still frozen like the dead.


The bunk shifted suddenly, roughly, and I had to grip onto the metal rims tightly to keep from falling as Erin stood. She barely glanced at me or Fay before charging at the door, fuelled by anger, and she slammed her fists against the pure white metal again and again to no end. The movement appeared much less threatening without being able to hear the sound of her rebellion and I couldn't help but frown at her helplessness.

 Erin was an Empath and unfortunately for her, that meant she was the runt of the litter. Empath's had no place here; they were the opposite of what the Leaders strode for, and yet, Erin had managed to make it this far without being pulled from the programme and sent to a Rehabilitation Centre, for those who made relapses back into unwanted emotions. I thought it was because she was a great actor when not under the influence of emotions, like she was then. Fuelled by her rage and fear.


I lifted myself to the edge of the bed, prepared to jump to the ground and pull her away back to her bunk before we all got scolded for her ruthless actions, but just as I prepared to move, the door popped open – the red light turned to green. Erin stumbled backwards and watched in confusion as the door slid open further till it hit the metal of my bunk, allowing us a glimpse of the hallway. Just as the bunkroom was, the ceiling and floor was a sterile white colour, the same as the doors which occurred every two meters on both sides of the corridor. Other people, some I knew, some I didn't, peered out from their doorways with confusion and anxiety evident on their face. And I could see their mouths move, all at once, as if no one was listening to the words of anyone else. Or they couldn't.
  

Erin turned to looked at me, her whole body shaking and trembling with nerves, whilst Fay merely stayed where she was, near the back of the room. I shook my head, sighing, knowing that I would have to be the one to go first. Without hesitation, I began a slow walk to into the corridor only to be met with the push and shove of a quickly formed crowd.


Everyone from our Ward had be released, and they were crazed.