Lost

1

When you finally come to your senses, you're in the same room as before, still strapped to the metal chair. Janson isn't there anymore. You're alone.

You can't recall how long you've been here; the last thing you remember is passing out. Suddenly there's a stinging pain in your arms and you wince, hissing in pain. You look down and see cuts along your arms, some fresher, some a more paley pink colour, but still rather new. Did you do that?

You look to the side table of death tools and see a sharp scalpel and a couple other intimidating sharp objects resting in a pool of red-tinted rubbing alcohol. Clearly someone else did this. Janson? Who else would it be?

You look up to the corner and see that the red light on the camera isn't flashing, and you realize that Janson had taken your advice.

You wait for what seems like hours, staring at the concrete wall, until the door swings open and emerges Janson. He smirks evilly when he sees your sickly state— you can only imagine how terrible you look.

"Ahh, Y/N. Rise and shine, Love", he adds emphasis on the last word, as if he's testing it.

That word. That word triggers something in you. A bubble of anger flares in you and you shout at Janson.

"Don't call me that!! You're not allowed to call me that!", you scream.

His cocky smile falters and is replaced with a grimace, "and why not?"

You think for a moment. Why not? That word isn't his! Janson doesn't get to call you that. Because that's his word. Who......
That's when it hits you.
Newt! That's Newts word!

"Newt.... Newt! Where is he?! WHERE'S NEWT?!", you scream, and Janson sighs.

"Just when I thought we were making progress"

Before you have time to ask what he meant by 'progress', he walks swiftly over to the desk in front of you and grabs the remote. You try not to show fear, but seeing it in his hands makes you quaver. He can clearly tell your uneasy. He relishes that.

"Don't worry. This is just to get you knocked out, it's not meant for punishment"

"Oh yes, because that makes me feel one hundred percent better"

He chuckles slightly before zapping you into blackness.

WICKED POV

Ava watches her, laying on the table unconscious while the neurosurgeons attempt to remove her memories of that boy. The parasitic boy that implanted a false idea in her head and corrupted her ordeals. He made her weak, and confused, and overly kind. The opposite of what Ava knew her to be.

The monitor shows a live X-ray of what's going on inside her head. Ava's no scientist— well, she is, but she's most certainly not qualified to understand something as complex as brain science— but from what the surgeons told her, they were just performing a minor surgery to physically remove the part of her brain that contains subject A5.

Though, that is risky, because it can also affect memories of other Gladers or events that include subject A5, Ava felt it necessary. And even though Avas means are controversial, she isn't a monster. Y/N's memories aren't gone, just temporarily relocated until she's on WICKED's side.

Ava knew that would be challenging; even without her memory of Newt, she was still easily manipulated by affection— the Gladers and Icers would be able to corrupt her, so Ava has decided to keep Y/N under a watchful eye.

"Ma'am?", one of the nurses says, snapping Ava out of her thoughts.

"Yes?"

"We have a problem"