• Trial One: The Maze •
||𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑|| Blake was said to have tamed the vicious robotic creature, Seven. She was granted the nickname Griever Tamer. But was the creature ever really tamed? Or was it just a distraction, a way that WICK...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
ꕻꕻꕻꕻꕻꕻꕻ
"Bean!" A little girl's voice echoed around Blake's head.
"Bean!"
"I'm over here!" Blake called to the girl's voice. Blake seemed really young, around the age of six.
A little girl appeared from the blackness, her brown hair in a simple braid down her tiny shoulders. Her big dark eyes stared at Blake with sadness, tears glistening in them making her eyes glow. She had a tiny nose that was tinted a light pink. Then, she ran into Blake's small arm. The girl looked to be five or maybe four.
"I miss her," she cried into Blake's shoulder.
The blackness turned into a small grey room. A table and a few chairs were in the corner, two small beds with old sheets were on either side of the room. "I miss her too. But don't worry, I'll take care of you, and we still have Dad and George. Give Dad time he'll turn back to normal."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
~~~~~~~~~
"Hey, Blake. Wake up," Minho whispered loudly.
Blake put her pillow over her head, trying to remember that lost memory again, or what she thought was a lost memory. "Stop being a lug. Get your butt up. You want to be a Runner or not?"
Blake groaned sitting up. Minho was standing with a flashlight, glaring the brightness into Blake's squinted eyes. Thomas stood behind him, a tiny smile on his face. Blake stretched out her long arms then pulled off her warm covers. Suddenly, Minho grabbed Blake's right arm, staring at it with an alarming look.
"What are you doing, weirdo!" Blake hissed, flinging Minho's hand off her arm.
"You...you have a tattoo," Minho said, poking at her arm near her shoulder. Blake grabbed her arm to get a look at this "tattoo." Minho was right, there lied a permanent black ink tattoo that spelled out four letters.
W.C.K.D
Wicked is good, she remembered reading it on the slip of paper she found in her pouch. Then, the same lettering shined from the Beetle Blades' eyes. Who was Wicked?
"What the shuck does that mean?"
"Not sure."
They stared at the tattoo for a good minute. Questions only piled up in Blake's head.
