ACT I SCENE I
AGAMEMNON

"Those whom the Gods love,
die young."

A SLOW, ANNOYING DRONE; like the perpetual hum of a malignant vector in search of fresh blood. All she knew last was that the anaesthesia had put her under back in the chamber. The smell of rust and damp forced her mind back into a state of awareness. Discomfort was something that she was well acquainted with, making her body tense instinctively. She felt his familiar presence reaching out to her with restless trepidation.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

"No," she shot back.

Then she inhaled sharply and retched. Her eyes flew open and darted around to take in her surroundings. It was dark with only a faint blinking red glow that came from somewhere high above her. She swallowed back the acidic taste in her mouth as her trembling arms pushed herself upright.

Everything around her shook and rattled, her stomach churned as she careened upwards. She forced herself to her feet and felt around through the dark. Her fingers brushed against coarse, grainy wood and a goat bleated from a corner nearby. She stumbled forwards, her mind racing at the same time with the velocity.

Where was she? She turned from side to side, feeling lost and disoriented, then she saw it. One word, six letters, stamped in bold. It flashed in front of her eyes each time the red glow illuminated it. She stared, transfixed, and felt a tightly coiled ball of anger unravel in her chest. Her face contorted into a deep scowl as she finally realised.

This was a mistake. Her fists slammed against the rails and a furious scream tore through her vocal chords. She should have known better, the thought kept racing across her mind. Her legs started to tremble and she fell back down onto grated metal. The nausea swelled and threatened to rise up her throat again.

"No, no, no..." she moaned, grasping her head. She could already feel the effects of the device in her brain, like a plug being pulled. Her identity, as she knew it, was disappearing- slipping into the cracks and crevices of her subconscious. Soon, she would forget.

She slumped down to the floor and felt hot wet tears stream down her cheeks. "You were a mistake," she could hear another voice in her mind. She hugged her knees to her chest as sobs wracked through her entire body, and waited for the ride to end.

There was a loud jolting boom and the box grounded to a halt. From above, she could hear the groan of metal grinding against metal. The doors of the lift were wrenched open in perfect synchrony and bright light invaded through the opening.

Loud voices suddenly filled the air, voices that felt familiar but she couldn't quite place or recall. "What do we have-" they stopped abruptly into a stunned silence. She felt like she was waiting for a death sentence when two heavy footsteps landed inside the lift.

A hand was on her shoulder, shaking her.

"Hey, you good there?" someone asked.

There was a brief pause.

"She's bloody out of it. Someone throw down a rope."

A second deeper voice started barking out orders from the top. The floor moved from under her and she was now squinting at the opposite wall. Wooden crates and boxes surrounded them on all sides. Her eyes were swollen and the change in surrounding wasn't helping her situation.

"Can you stand?" the boy beside her asked.

She finally had a look at his face. He was young, in his teens, with blonde hair and round brown eyes that were full of concern. There was a tiny scar on his cheek, the only thing that marred his smooth face. She managed to move her head left and right; the rest of her body refused to respond.

"Well, good thing you're small."

He hooked an arm under her knees and wrapped the other around her back before lifting her up in one swift motion. The boy took a couple of steps forward before slipping a rope around her middle. There was a tug and her eyelids drooped down from exhaustion as she was lifted out of the box.

She felt grass beneath her a moment later and smelt the heavy scent of earth. It reminded her of lying down on picnic blankets and eating sandwiches, warm hugs and soft kisses. Voices erupted all around her at once with a chorus of questions.

"Is that... a real girl?"

"What's up with her?"

"Is she pretty?"

"Let me see her!"

"Hey!" a deep voice cut through the air. "No one touches her except who I say can touch her, you got that, slintheads?"

Mumbles of disappointed consent rippled around her but the brief outburst had woken her up from her daze. She opened her eyes and stared up at an expansive clear blue sky. Her eyes scanned their periphery, at the faces of the boys looking down at her. She felt another twang of familiarity as she carefully examined the features of each inquisitive face and curiosity filled her.

"Fresh air makin' ya feel better?" the blonde kid popped back into her view, hovering above her head.

She frowned and tried to clench her fist, measuring what strength she had in her body. Her mouth opened to speak, taking in a deep breath and feeling it scrape the insides of her throat. The girl's reaction was instantaneous as she went into a violent coughing fit, rolling onto her hands and knees as tears pricked her eyes.

Choking to death; what a great way to go, she groaned inwardly.

The blonde was patting her on the back as she struggled to recompose herself.

"Don't die on us," he was telling her. "We've never had a girl come up before. Kinda exciting, actually."

Her only reaction as she tried not to die was what on earth could he possibly mean by that?

"Yeah, speak for yourself," someone else said.

A moment later, a cup of water was pushed in front of her face. She grabbed it hastily and drank every single drop, enjoying the cooling sensation running down her oesophagus. After a satisfied sigh, she lifted her head to look around with renewed vigour.

It was like a veil being pulled away. She started remembering snippets of her life- walking down a street, sleeping in a tunnel, the smell of disinfectant and the warmth of woollen blankets. The memories flowed past like a gushing stream, each one not quite connecting with the next.

She remembered faces, their faces.

"Can you tell us your name?" the blonde was asking her again. "Mine's-"

"Newt?" she interrupted him.

"What..."

The girl turned to look at him squarely, feeling as if she had known him for ages but had no such evidence to back it up. She could match his face to a name, but that was pretty much all her brain could do. It was like having selective memory. Where did she meet him? How did she know him? Did they used to be friends? There was no answer to any of these basic questions.

"Newt," she repeated, more confidently. "That's your name... right?"

His face was scrunched up with a mixture of emotions, shock and fear being the most prominent. Apprehension started to rise from the pit of her stomach, then someone grabbed her from behind and spun her around. His fingers dug into her shoulders uncomfortably as she looked into a hardened face with dark heated eyes, and gulped.

"What did you just say?" the boy asked, emphasising each word.

"Alby...?" the name slipped out of her mouth.

He stumbled backwards away from her as if burnt and the boys circling them broke out into frightened whispers. She realised, albeit belatedly, that she probably should have kept her strange name knowing to herself. But she couldn't help it. She knew them. That was the only thing she was certain about. Someone stepped forwards, pointing at himself. He was a tall and bulky boy with brown hair and a mean looking face.

"What about me?" he asked her.

"...Gally."

"Bloody hell," Newt swore under his breath behind her.

"Somethin' ain't right here," Alby shook his head and stared at her in perturbation. "Nobody should know... is it a trick? Did they do this on purpose?"

She wanted to ask what he meant by that but Newt was pulling on her arm this time. The boy looked at her with wide hopeful eyes when she turned around.

"What else do you know?" he asked.

Her eyebrows furrowed deeply as she tried to rack her brain, only to find a massive block in her memory again. She was well aware that she should know more; where she came from, for example, her family and friends. Even her own age was unknown to her. But she could comprehend language, mathematical equations, other mundane things like how to use a fork and knife. It seemed like her procedural and semantic memory stores were intact- she just couldn't remember how she knew them or anything else about herself.

"That's all..." she replied numbly.

"Are you sure?" he pressed. "Try to think. Hard. Think really bloody hard."

"I'm telling you that's all I know," she snapped at him. "I can't even remember who I am!"

"Nothing else?" Alby looked at her suspiciously.

"Nothing," she insisted. "I swear."

"Then how do you know our names?" Gally asked almost demandingly.

"I-I don't know!" the girl exclaimed, flustered at their overbearingness. "I just do, okay? I can give a name to a face. But I don't know where the heck I am or where I came from. What's going on?"

"Okay, calm down," Newt told her and exchanged looks with the other boys. "You still haven't given us your own name."

She paused to look at him, finding her chest suddenly heaving with emotion. There was something in his relaxed demeanour that put her back to ease, she could hear the sincerity and kindness in his voice.

"It's Cassandra," she said almost reluctantly. "Like the Greek princess."

"Well, Cassandra, like the Greek princess," Newt stood up and wiped his hands on his pants, then held one out to her.

She looked up at his face, squinting against the sunlight behind him. The moment she took his hand, she felt that he was someone she could put her trust in. He hoisted her up onto her feet and she winced. Her muscles felt sore as if she had just ran an entire marathon. She was aware of every single pair of eyes on her and it made her feel self-conscious. Cassandra took in a shaky breath and exhaled slowly.

"Welcome to the Glade."

Newt waved his arms out and she followed his gaze, sweeping across the patch of grass they were standing on and to the stone ground beyond. A sudden jolt of fear struck her heart but she had no idea why.

The Glade, as it was called, looked completely peaceful and idyllic. She could see a farm on one side full of luscious greenery and flowering trees. A few animals roamed about, completely at ease. Next to it was a battered looking building. It looked like it was made up of several shacks haphazardly thrown against the other. There was a forest in another corner, its trees clustered close together and throwing deep shadows along the ground.

Then she lifted her eyes and noticed it; the tall looming walls that encircled the entire Glade. They were made of the same stone as the ground, with large gaps on each point of the compass. She took a step forward, straining her eyes at the opening directly opposite her. Someone was running towards them from beyond the walls and a voice called out behind her.

"Hey, who's that? Isn't too early to be back?"

"Can't tell from all the way here."

Her feet started off on their own, as if drawn by some inexplicable force. Newt called her back and started to go after her but Alby held a hand out.

"Wait. I want to see what she's gonna do next," he said, keeping his eyes trained on the girl with distrust.

She ignored them and made her way across the field but she knew they were watching her carefully, following her every movement. Breaking away from the throng of boys, she started to run despite the lingering ache in her muscles.

Her heart swelled with anticipation and something akin to longing as the towering walls reared closer towards her. She could now make out the figure that was running in her direction. He was tall and muscular, wearing a blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up to show off his strong arms. His facial features were Asian, and his black hair cut short.

The boy stopped just inside the Glade and bent in half to catch his breath. Sweat stained his clothes and slid down his creased forehead in beads. She slowed down to a jog until she was a couple of feet away from him then stopped. He was panting and muttering curses in that strange slang she could barely understand.

She knew him; but not like how she knew the others. It felt different, more profound. As if she had known every intimate detail of his life before, but it was now lost to the amnesia- save for a persistent feeling of ache in her chest. Finally, he felt her stare and looked up.

"What the shucking hell?" he laughed breathlessly. "They sent up a girl?"

She took a step forward then swayed backwards hesitantly, her heart skipped a beat and she swallowed nervously. The boy continued to give her a weird look.

"Did they finally send a TV up with you too? What are you doing here?" he asked, dragging a hand across his brow. "Where're the others?"

He tilted his head to look behind her.

"Why are those shanks letting you run around on your own?"

"Minho?" her voice shook as she uttered his name, stirring something inside that had been covered in ancient dust.

He froze and his face fell, eyes flicking up to look at her again. She closed the gap between them in three quick steps and he jerked upright in surprise. Her hand reached up to his face and lightly touched his cheek with cold fingertips against his flushed skin. The boy watched her with wariness.

"Did someone tell you who I was?" he asked uncertainly.

She shook her head and took a deep shuddering breath. Something indiscernible squeezed at her heart, and it hurt so much that tears were starting to pool in her eyes. It was the most bizarre experience and she would never be able to explain it, she was just afraid that he would vanish before her very eyes like smoke.

"Hey, what-" he pulled her hand away. "What's wrong with you?"

"I-I don't know..." she gasped. "But it hurts."

"You're hurt? What the hell did those shuck-faces do to you?" he grabbed her shoulders and examined her for injuries.

"No-" she pressed her palm tightly against her sternum. "My chest..."

"Someone get a shucking Med-jack here!" he yelled at the boys in the distance. "She's having a heart attack!"

"What?" somebody yelled back.

"No, wait- Minho, please," she called anxiously. "Minho, look at me."

He turned back towards her in confusion. Cassandra looked into his brown eyes, searching for a clue; something, anything. She knew it was there, just beyond her reach. The sound of childish laughter amongst the soft drizzle of rain. Warm hands clasped together under the splatter of a rising dawn. A daisy kissed by the glow of the golden sun.

Pain suddenly exploded from every darkened corner of her mind, and her face crumpled from the strain.

It felt like a searing hot knife was twisting through her brain cells, then specks of light erupted in her vision before she blacked out. Minho barely caught her in time before her body could hit the ground.

"Whoa! Oh, man. Hey, you stupid shuck-faced shanks! Someone help this chick out!"

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Hello and welcome to this crazy roller coaster ride! The story takes place six months before Thomas arrives in the Glade and is based entirely on the original books with some movie aspects. It's a romance but a slow-building one because I want to focus on the plot as well and explore some of the backstory of the universe being the science and the world they live in. Those were what really drew me into the books and I wanted to delve into that unexplored territory. There will also be a lot of references to Greek mythology.

Please consider favouriting and leaving a review for this story if you enjoyed it, all proceeds will be donated to a good cause in raising Glader children!

CHECK OUT THE TRAILER I MADE ON MY PROFILE xx