Remember for the Both of Us [COMPLETED]

1: Going Up

I woke up in the dark, and panicked, because I thought for a second that I would be exactly like the rest of them.

I searched my brain and grasped for memories, holding on to them with mental fingers stronger than steel. But as a second ticked by, and then two, and I felt no tug on my thoughts to suck them away, I relaxed. They hadn't done it. They had, for the first time in the history of the organization, kept a promise. Well, I suppose that's a little too kind. They haven't kept their promises towards me. Not entirely.

The lift jerked and rattled, and I gasped in pain as my fingers were smashed against the rough grating of the floor. Crawling blindly: eyes closed, hands outstretched, I tried to find my way to the corner. My knees were ripped open as I stumbled across the floor, and boxes of food and clothing slid and jostled me.

The largest jerk so far. I was slammed backwards and hit my head against the corner of a wooden crate. 

Pain. I felt a gush of blood.

In books, they always say "you saw your life flash before your eyes" or whatever, which sounds super unrealistic and just... weird. But it's true. It was less like seeing and more like graphic remembering, every word said, every laugh, every tear, every moment that had been tucked away in your subconscious oozing out in a second.

Unfortunately, the most recent memories were the most vivid. Of course the beginning of my life, which was sunshine and laughter and... 

Of course the beginning of my life received no prominent part, but the last hellish hour of my life sat center stage, huge and bloated.

I sat in the Chancellor's office, hands gripping the arms of the chair. She sat across from me, calm and composed, ignoring the hateful gaze I shot at her, simply smiling and shuffling papers around in her desk. "Well, H-"

"Shut it," I growled. "You are NOT allowed to call me by that name."

She smiled sweetly. "I call you whatever I want, Subject C1."

"You think that name will bother me?" I laughed. "You have no idea of anything about me, woman. Can we just get to the point here?"

Her smile became forced. "I will insist, sweetie, that you show some respect. I'm not just some random woman off the street. You have no idea of the power I wield on a day-to-day basis. I could ruin you and all you stand for. Just with a snap of my fingers."

"I'd think you'd have to do more than that," I replied snarkily. "Unless you have a specific 'let's-ruin-everything-this-exact-person-cares-for' snap. I mean, generally, you'd need to tell them what you want them to do. The underlings at this organization are pretty much idiots. I think you know that."

She slammed her hand down on the table. "Enough! Let's just get to the point. You know your mission. You are the backup Variable for Group A. You've been training to enter the Maze Trials for three years now."

"Yeah, and what a horrible experience that was," I muttered, but my heart thumped in my chest. What was she leading up to?

"Well, we've deemed it necessary that you should enter the Maze." My heart turned to lead. "We will communicate with you through the telepathic devices, and you will also be able to communicate with Thomas and Teresa. Whenever you and I are communicating, it will be a private feed, and so Thomas and Teresa will not be able to hear you. However, you will be able to hear everything Thomas and Teresa say to each other through the devices.

"We've been over this before. Gain their trust and show them the way out without letting them catch on that you still remember. Let them figure it out for themselves, but point them in the right direction."

My fists clenched. "You bi--" she sat up straighter and I stopped. "You promised I wouldn't actually have to go in!"

"Oh, but you're not," she smiled. I felt a hand on my arm, and jerked, turning to see a scientist holding my tricep in an iron grip and brandishing a syringe. I felt a sting as the needle dug underneath my skin. "The only people who truly enter the Maze forget everything. I'm afraid, my dear, that you will have the burden of remembering."

My vision started to go fuzzy, and my head spun. They were sedating me! "I hate you," I said, glaring at her. "I hate you more than life itself." 

She smiled. Or grimaced. I wasn't sure. I couldn't really see anymore. "We'll be in touch," she said.

And then, in my head: "Don't forget, Hope. WICKED is good."

Before I could say anything else, I fell into the darkness.