Tricked (t.m.r.)

2.2 - Practice

They followed the man in silence to their destination, where they were gestured to go into a dark room at the wave of the man's hand. Primrose's hand found Liam's in the dark, neither of them spoke, but held their breath to listen for any foreign noises. She could feel his hand getting cold and hoped he doesn't hear her heart trying to break out of the bones that caged it for its protection.

"Are you mad at me?" Primrose had to strain her ears to hear what Liam had said.

"No." She gave him a reassuring squeeze, "You had your reasons. I believe you."

He did not bother to hide the relief in his voice, and rushed to engulf her in a tight hug. "I wanted to tell you everything, I swear, but WICKED threatened they would blow my head up even if I let out the slightest slip."

"Okay big guy, calm down." She had to reach up to pat his head because of the difference between their heights. "Who are we supposed to be actually? If we're not supposed to be with the gladers?"

"We're guards, or bodyguards. Same difference. Basically, we were tasked to protect the facility from cranks and stop anyone from escaping. We've been here since we were kids." Liam broke away from the hug. "We destroyed something important of theirs, a weapon called a transvice, and they threw us into the maze. You were the one who came up with the idea, they punished you first by throwing me in, I don't know what happened to you while I was in the maze, but I knew you were supposed to be killed by the grievers. I heard them talking about it while I was being operated on before being sent up."  

"Sent up?" Primrose frowns, trying to soak up as much information as she could. 

"The maze is-"

A series of bright lights cranked into life and revealed themselves one by one across the room, momentarily blinding the two into silence. Primrose was blinking her eyes rapidly, trying to adjust to her new surroundings as quickly as possible. When she did, she saw both of them were in an arena, one that's built with expensive metal with holes that aren't big enough for anyone to squeeze through. 

A voice spoke through the microphone, sounding surprisingly clear. "You two are going to enjoy our next activity, especially you White Leopard, you always have a knack for murder." The man chuckled. "And you White Wolf, I bet you felt thrilling living in the maze, you always have an addiction for pretending to be an angel." 

Liam cursed and immediately bolts forward, prompting Primrose to follow after him when she saw he was running towards a table that has two sets of weapons laid neatly on it. She recognised them as dual knives once they were close enough to see what it was.

Liam was looking wildly around them as he counted at the number of entrances he could spot around the arena, "We need to be ready before the cranks are released. As usual, we fight with our backs against each other. If one of us fails, both of us will die."

"Cranks?" Primrose had a feeling they were going to meet a bunch of people who had gathered by their windows the day before.

"Crazy people infected by a disease called the Flare. We're here to polish up our fighting skills."

"By killing them?"

Liam nodded grimly, "Yes. Either them or us. Always had been." 

"The real world sucks." Primrose commented as she handled the weight of her newly bestowed weapons in her hands, moving them around her swiftly as she tested their usability. 

"We're ready." Liam called out to the man behind the black mirror, but received no response in return. 

"What's that shuckface's name?" Primrose jerks her head at the direction she had assumed he was at. "And what's with the weird nicknames he was calling us?"