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THE AIR WAS STALE down below the earth

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THE AIR WAS STALE down below the earth. When he awoke, short puffs of air came out of chapped lips. He leaned to the right, and coughed out a cloud of dust from his lungs.

He pulled himself back and scanned the small room he was in. Panic surged through his heart, and he sucked in a desperate breath.

The room was dark, save for the occasional red beam of light crossing the room every few seconds.

The air inside was hot and he felt sticky and gross.

"Hello?" He yelled, voice hoarse and gravelly. Pushing himself up onto his knees, he leaned back onto his heels.

He tried again. "He—" but his voice failed him. it cut off, voice cracking, and he doubled over coughing.

He held his head in his hands, close to crying. his head hurt and his memory was fuzzy. he tried remembering anything. before this box, where he came from. he couldn't. it was frustrating, like something important was on the tip of his tongue.

He huffed, feeling pressure on his head and it took everything in him not to burst out into tears. he swallowed, a lump in his throat akin to a rock.

"Breath." he murmured to himself.

He took deep breaths, slowly, and exhaled, letting the air out of his lungs slowly. his nerves died down, but his hands still shook.

his hand felt up the right side of his jacket, in the top pocket closest to his face. he pulled out a note, and with shaking hands, opened it.

Don't forget him.

he racked his brain, for anything. anyone that was of importance to him. he was freaked out, and shoved the note back into his pocket.

names and faces were blank, but he remembered hallways, fuzzy lightbulbs, hazy memories of running and playing, handholding and crying.

one thing that terrified him, however, was his name.

one, that he couldn't remember.

"No, no no no. Why is this happening." he said, voice thick with emotion. every word he pushed out felt like thick syrup forcing its way from his throat.

he looked around once again, seeing rusting metal grates, nails in the wall, a few wooden crates with the label WCKED on them.

He ran his fingertips along the carved edges of the wooden crates. His t-shirt clung to his sweaty torso. the room smelt familiar, like the dank, underground of a basement of sorts.

He looked at his hands, ran his fingers through his hair, touched the cloth of his clothes, anything to prove to him that this wasn't real.

Suddenly, the small metal box stopped. Suspended on strings. His breathing came out ragged. He switched his position from laying criss-cross on the hard, metal floor to on his knees, leaning back against his heels. He waited, for what felt like forever.

The room was silent, every little thing could be heard. the groaning of the cords of the room, creaking of the metal. His breathing slowed, the only thing that could be heard.

He waited, and suddenly, the room slowly filled with light.

The box opened, large metal doors that slid open to reveal a metal cage-like door over it. Around the opening, were boys. at least a dozen of them, all looking down at him.

He stood on shaking legs, stabilizing himself.

The cage-like doors opened, and down came a hand.

He took it, and with the help of the other boys, he was pulled out of the box.

A boy who stood much taller than him, with broad shoulders and strong arms put a hand on his left shoulder.

"welcome to hell, greenbean."





soon after the crowd of boys dispersed, the boy, who had introduced himself as Nick took him on a short tour around the large grassy area.

"So, greenie, remember your name yet?" He asked, a light tone to his voice.

He shook his head, smiling slightly. "No."

"Eh, that's normal. Probably'll take you a bit to actually remember it. I'm going to assume you have a lot of questions." He said, looking down on him.

"Yeah, actually. Do you by any chance know who put us here? or why?" Maybe it was a long shot, a dumb question.

"No, and no. sorry 'bout that." he said, leaning against the wooded structure behind him.

"It's cool. just..confusing."

"Confusing is an understatement. listen, follow me."

Nick brought him to a small tower overlooking their community. It was beautiful, seeing the whole of the area as it was.

blossoming vines with flowers, green grass and a small farm near the corner of it.

"This. This is our home. We don't know why we're here, what we did to deserve it. It's..unfair, but, we just have to make-do."

"So, does this place have a name? Or is it just—nameless?" He asked.

Nick snickered. "I don't know if that was a pun, but no, currently this place is nameless. For now, we just call it our home."

The shorter boy made a noise of recognition, looking over the horizon.

The towering walls of the maze, rumbling distantly could be heard. It was quiet. Birds chirped.

His head began swirling, and hundreds of things swam through his head. beaches, parks, benches, dogs.

a name.

"Atlas."

"What?"

He craned his neck slightly behind him to the taller boy.

"My name. It's Atlas."
















i'm back. sorry if u cringe this isn't my best work.

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