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CHAPTER EIGHT
Visions
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>☆<
Elisabeth ran her fingers along her hairline feeling the dried blood crusted beside the small reddish lump blossoming at the right side of her forehead. Small crescent like scratches stood out against her pale skin and her headache stopped all other traffic in her brain, as suddenly as had met with red lights.
Elisabeth lay awake for a long time, tossing and turning in her bed. The past few days were filled with many eventful things to think about that the slept felt very far away. She was sure that those few minutes in the graveyard would be haunting her nightmares for weeks. Eyes closed or not; she could swear she still kept hearing the swift thunk of the arrow finding a home in Ben's cheek.
She forced the dark thoughts and images away from her head, and after another hour of tossing and turning, the relief of sleep swept in and took her away like a silent storm during a summer night. With the sleep came a dream.
Something flashed behind her closed eyelids like bright light against still waters. Blurry faces and images swirled past like a low-quality movie playing in a very old TV. So familiar yet so foreign. Then things started to come into focus, and she could hear voices.
She stood in a dazzling bright meadow below a brilliant blue sky broken by scattered fluffy clouds. Sunlight shone down on her like a jar of spilling honey.
It was all strange. Elizabeth was right there, yet she was observing as an outsider. It was a dream, but everything felt so real, like a long-lost memory.
Memory.
She's six. Maybe seven?
"We come outside after months, and here you are sticking your nose behind a book!" She says.
A boy sits on the ground beside her with a book open in his lap. He seems to be the same age as her and has messy brown hair that ruffles in the soft breeze that rolled over them. He gazed up at her with eyes the same colour as her own.
"Just one more page," he says. "Things just got interesting and-"
She reached down and snatched up the book, holding it out of the boy's reach.
"Should I remove your bookmark?"
"Oi! Give it back!" He demands, reaching up to snatch it back.
"What's the magic word, little brother?"
"Now!"
"Wrong answer," stated she. "But I'll give it back to you." She lowered the book, and the moment the boy tried taking it back, she pulled it away and ran. "Just kidding! Better luck next time, thanks for playing!"
A middle-aged man and a woman sat on the stairs leading up to their small house a few feet away, watching their children chase each other with smiles on their faces.
Elisabeth ran as fast as her short legs would take her, with her brother following her closely. Then she trips on few loose branches and falls into the grass. Before she could even roll onto her back, the boy starts tickling her.
"Oi! This isn't fair!" She laughed. "This is torture!"
"Well, back in the eighteenth century people used tickling as a torture method."
"Okay, nerd."
She rolled onto her back and gazed up at the sky, watching the clouds pass by like cotton balls floating on water. The boy laid next to her with his head resting on her left arm.
"I wish we could come out like this more," he whispered. "But you know. . ."
His eyes drifted towards the steel door in the backyard. Elisabeth could see the deserted street behind the bars.
"The Cra-"
Whatever she said next was just a static hum like someone had turned off the working switch of her ears.
"If you can go and touch the padlock in the door," she pointed at the shiny silver padlock securing the gates together. "I'll give you my cookie at dinner."
"No," he replied flatly.
"Okay then, watch me."
She got up and walked towards the gate, small step by small step, across the dewy grass that tickled the part of her ankles not covered by her socks.
Then she heard a sound that made her pause midstep. A haunting cry between a yell and a moan. It didn't even sound like a human.
She could see shadowed figures moving on the other side of the bars. But it was too bright for her to make out their faces.
Then she caught sight of a pair of dark sunken eyes that emanated an emptiness like she had never seen. Thick dark blood trailed down the figure's cheeks, which were covered with scratches and torn flesh.
Elisabeth woke with a start, shooting upright with her mouth open in a silent scream, heart thudding violently. She touched her face. Her fingers came away drenched in cold sweat.
For a few seconds she was still trapped in her dream. Slowly she familiarised her surroundings, trying to clear her mind off anything else and her beating heart calmed down. She was still in her room at the Homestead.
Eventually her mind went back to the awfully vivid dream. And she thought of the youthful boy playfully chasing her around the garden and the middle-aged couple watching them with amused smiles on their wrinkled faces. Her stomach turned.
Elisabeth shook her head, it was just a dream and it wouldn't do her any good to dwell on it.
It was just a dream.
Or was it really? A small voice said at the back of her head.
After a quick shower and breakfast, Elisabeth got ready for her third job trial.
"Tommy are you even listening to me?"
"Yeah, sorry. Couldn't sleep last night." Thomas mumbled, snapping out of his daze and focusing on Newt, who had been giving them instructions for the past two minutes.
"Can't blame ya there. Went through the buggin' ringer, you did." He attempted to smile which came out more as a grimace. "Probably think I'm a Slinthead Shank for gettin' you ready to work your butt off today after an episode the likes of that."
Thomas shrugged. "Work's probably the best thing I could do. Anything to get my mind off it."
Newt smiled. "You're as smart as you look, Tommy. That's one of the reasons we run this place all nice and busylike. You get lazy, you get sad. Start givin' up. Plain and simple."
Elisabeth nodded. "Who are we working with today?"
"Tommy here will be workin' with the Slicers. We always make the Newbies start with the bloody Slicers," Newt told them. "And you will be working with Gally and the Builders."
They looked over their shoulders at the big faded-red barn.
"So what's first? Milk cows or slaughter some poor little pigs?"
"Slicers do anything and everything dealin' with the beasties. So don't worry, cuttin' up Frypan's victuals ain't but a part."
"Too bad I can't remember my whole life. Maybe I love killing animals." Thomas said sarcastically.
Elisabeth sighed, making her way to the section where the Builders worked. Gally approached her at once and bossed her around, giving instructions on what to do and not caring if she understood them or not.
He made her start with the basics. Like hammering nails and cutting wood. Then they moved onto harder things such as how to put up a wall.
Working with the Builders actually wasn't that bad. Gally was a little annoying sometimes but he was good at his job. The only problem was Elisabeth's stamina. She got tired and out of breath easily.
By lunch time she had several splinters pricking at her palms. She made her way to the kitchen and got in line to get lunch.
"Greenie," Frypan greeted her with a kind smile, sliding a bowl of soup across the table. "How was your day working with the Builders?"
"Fine? Sure, Gally was a little annoying at first but I see why he's the Keeper of the Builders."
"You're always welcomed to work with the Cooks." James said, coming over with his lunch.
"If I worked with you guys, the Gladers will take to eating Zart's raw veggies," she chuckled. "Besides I can't choose what job I want."
William who was standing behind her leaned forward to whisper in her ear. "Just mess up on every job till you get to the one you want," he flashed her a smirk. "Then act sweet."
"Thanks," Elisabeth laughed. She looked around the small picnic tables outside the kitchen, spotted Edward and James and made directly for them, or as directly as she could while having to wend her way between tables like obstacles.
She slid into the seat across from the two boys and was just about to start on her soup when something on the table caught her eye.
Written in faded red paint were the words-
WICKED IS GOOD
"Ironic," Elisabeth muttered. "Hey guys?" She looked up at the boys. "Any idea what this is?"
Edward and James leaned across the table to take a look.
"Oh, that." James said in a casual tone.
"It's probably a famous saying of someone very popular," Edward said thoughtfully.
"Or it could be a motto?" Elisabeth suggested.
"Yeah?" William butted in from the table beside them, where he was sitting with Newt. "Could be the motto of the Slintheads who sent us here. Wicked is good," he mimicked in a high-pitched squeaky voice. And everyone sitting nearby laughed.
"Bet they say that to themselves a thousand times each day so they don't feel bad about sending innocent kids in the middle of a Maze guarded by deadly abominations."
Everyone stopped laughing at once.
It was eerily silent for a while until Edward spoke again. "I've only been on the Glade for five months, but I heard about that one guy named Stephen who got stung. After the Changing he was different, so the previous leader, Nick, ordered to lock him up in the Slammer."
Elisabeth put her spoon down and rested her elbows on the table, waiting for Edward to continue.
"He wrote that motto on the Slammer wall," he tapped the blood red words etched on the wooden table. "With his own blood."
Elisabeth grimaced, looking down at her empty bowl.
"Tell me about the Changing." She said wanting to change the subject.
"Well, the Griever stings you," James said, wiggling his fingers in front of her face. She pushed his hands away with a slight smile tugging at her lips. "Then they give you the Serum." He leaned across the table and gave her a hard look.
"And then you Change!"
"I've figured that much out myself, funnily enough." Elisabeth chuckled. She reached out her hand and ruffled the younger boy's hair. "Eddie?" She looked at Edward.
"After someone gets Stung," Edward began. "We, Med-jacks, give them the Grief Serum. And it affects their head in a way that brings back memories. It changes them. Ben wasn't the first one to act the way he did."
"Okay," Elisabeth said slowly, taking everything in. "You said it brings back memories, so the people who went through it must have answers-"
"They can't say anything. The Creators made sure of that. Everytime they try to speak about what they saw, their own hands close around their throats to make them stop talking."
So the Creators can control us?
Her mind wandered back to the dream she had and she wondered if the Creators could plant fake images and visions into their minds.
Real or not real, she knew the thought of the little boy from her dream will devour her waking hours and weave itself throughout her nightmares.
"Anyways," Edward said pulling her out of her reverie. "We're all supposed to gather around the West Door this afternoon for Ben's Banishment."
"Ben what!?"
A/N:
Sorry for the long wait! I was really busy with school stuff.
The original chapter was very long so I split it into two different chapters.
I was supposed to double update tonight but I'm kinda exhausted so the next update will probably be tomorrow or the day after tomorrow.
Because I'm tired this chapter is unedited, so ignore any spelling errors!
I recently changed the faceclaims so some descriptions of appearance might be different!
Who do you think the boy in Elisabeth's dream was?
And which oc would you like to see Elisabeth interact with more?
Thanks for reading!!
- Zara