Griever Girl

Property of WICKED

Okay peps I haven't finished "The Scorch Trials" so I'm going to need to keep reading it but, I'm almost a hundred pages in so I'm going to start writing this again well, yea. So it might take longer than I want but I'll be trying to update at least every other day until I finish the book and start "The Death Cure" then the same thing will happen and I'll wait 'till a hundred pages again. Okay I'm going to stop babbling and get on with the story.

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I looked at the ground, somewhat distort. If I was locked in a room with the windows being barricaded with metal bars blocking the way out then how was I safe?

I let out a long bored sigh and then a yawn. I had to say even if Minho or the others didn't think about me; I couldn't seem to get my mind off of them. Why had they cared so much about me just to somewhat . . . forget about me.

I laid down pulling the covers over my head and closed my eyes falling into a deep sleep.

Kill me! Kill me!

My eyes shot open and I looked around finding people who looked . . . dead. They were trying to break through the bars that covered the windows.

Fear shot through me. I was scared to move but then again wanted to get close to them fascinated by them. Kill me! Kill me! I'm a Crank! Kill me! The shouts filled the room not giving me the ability to think strait. I stood up and walked towards one of the windows as they moved closer to me trying to bite me, something that would inflect injury I guessed was their goal.

"Why?" I asked as if they so called Cranks would answer my question.

They just kept yelling. I started talking out loud to them as if the humans should I call them could hear me. Or maybe I was just talking so that I could hear my own thoughts and try to understand the situation more.

"Can you not kill yourselves?" I asked looking at them.

More screams.

"What happened to you that made you this way?"

Constant screams.

"Is this . . . The Flare?"

The Cranks stopped making my tilt me head to the side. The thing in my neck that made the Grievers all lovey dovey with me which I now called the Griever Chip started heating up again and the Cranks walked away as though I was no longer there.

I let out a long sigh feeling weird about this whole thing now. It didn't matter anymore, I was wide awake with no chance of going back to sleep.

When I tried to open the door it didn't budge. I groaned running my hand down my face. I gave it one more good yank before giving up and walking to the bathroom to wash up.

I walked into the room and over to the sink pulling off the pajama top they gave me leaving me in the black sports bra I got with it. I stretched and started running the water in the sink as I splashed it on my face feeling the nice cold water wash over my skin. I took a towel and dried my face looking into my own eyes in the reflection of the slightly cracked mirror.

I saw I had words tattooed on the side of my neck.

Property of WICKED, TEST, The Griever Girl

I let out a long sigh and pulled my shirt back on walking over to the door again. I once again pulled on it and saw the door open with ease. I once again groaned this time more out of confusion than anything else.

I walked into a room that was completely dark. I threw my arms up letting out another groan. "I can't believe this" I yelled not caring who heard me at this point.

The lights were suddenly flicked on and I looked at a man sitting in front of me. He was reading a book while having his feet propped up against a table. I looked around for any sign of someone who might have turned the lights on but came up empty handed.

I cleared my throat alerting the man of my presence. He looked up at me his eyes quickly leaving the page he was on. He looked back down at his page before closing the book and standing up.

"Well hello, what do you call yourself?"

"Dagger" I said somewhat confused.

"Well hello Dagger. My name is A.D. Janson. Please follow me and we will get to work. I expect group A to be here any day now."

"Why should I?" I asked my voice laced with curiosity and a little rage.

"Because" he said a smirk crawling onto his face "you're a test set up for the trials. and either way, you have to because you're property of WICKED."