Subjects Vengeance // The Death Cure [2]

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C H A P T E R  N I N E 
❝Do you remember who you were? Before the world was corrupted into something unimaginable? Before the world told you what you were supposed to be?❞

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For a few moments, as the darkness opened it's mouth wide and swallowed them whole, Mataya felt a stinging sensation that she couldn't put her finger on. Her eyes shutting as she let the red flashing light swirl around in her mind, the malicious smile slowly creeping upon her face as she felt somewhat human once again. 

For a few moments, she was back home curled under a soft blanket and Clarke's body pressed up against hers creating a warming effect not only on the outside, but the inside. She was young and happy, not being thrown into the turmoil of the scorch. Not having to quickly grow up. 

Mataya was simply a teenager who was thrown into a war meant for someone older than her. The universe looked down at laughed at her sickeningly. She was a mere spec in the universe, but she was chosen to fight something that wasn't meant to be fought. 

She was a mere spec in the universe, chosen to test the limits. Drown in the ocean. Struggle to breath, struggle to live, struggle to love. Broken and battered, but not entirely broken. But oh boy, oh boy, oh boy, oh boy, she was so close. So close to the sweetening taste of death that was present on her lips. 

She was a mere spec in the universe, born to die. 

"The guard's gone!" Minho shouted, bringing Mataya back to reality. "I can't find her!" 

She was quick to detect the sudden rushing sound of feet closing in on them between the shrills of the alarm. Suddenly, there was a pop of a grenade exploding against the cold, cement floor and Mataya jumped back in surprise. 

It was enough to light up the room a bit, and she detected Thomas across the hall with an alarming look, constantly ready and on his toes. He was holding the Launcher liked his life had depended on it and in those mere moments of chaos, she remembered what it was like to love. 

A human emotion. 

She felt human once again, for a split second. 

But it was gone quickly, and she was back to the cold hearted woman she was quick to become in this world. The door was now open, and Mataya looked down at the ground and lurched forward, grabbing the weapon that had fallen from her hand in a moment of panic. 

She held onto the knife with force, feeling her hand ache with an alarming pleasure as they walked forward, the echo of gun shots and a buzz of electricity. No one had responded to the rounds of fires and they stopped once Thomas had yelled to do so. 

The head pounding alarm came to a halt and the light from the electricity was disappearing. A red glow had cast over them and all Mataya could hear was her heaving breathing as her heart pounded quickly in her chest and her hands shook with fear. 

But no, no, no, no, you can't admit the fear that has enveloped you and created a home inside of you. Fear is a burden. 

You can't be fearful in the scorch. 

Mataya turned her head slightly and let her eyes scan the creepy and abandoned room they were in. Chairs and tables littered around in a disaster as she reached forward and let her hand run over the white chair with curiosity. 

There were chills and flashes in her mind, a jolt of harsh memories hit her like a brick. Head pounding, stomach twisted into a knot of nausea.

Her eyes lifting from the paper in front of her, her hand tightly gripped around the pencil as she tapped it once, twice and then three times against the wooden table beneath her. Mataya's lips pursed in thought and her eyes shut sweetly as she thought of the question.