" WHITE BLOOD " T. MAZE RUNNER¹

one.

[CHAPTER ONE]
brand new beginning

~

The next time she opened her eyes, she was no longer in the claustrophobic little cage, but instead in a spacious wooden room. She lay in a bed, wrapped in a thin blanket that was pulled up to her chin, and her head rested on a pillow. Her vision was blurry as she looked around, her surroundings fuzzy as if her eyes weren't used to the sunlight that creeped through the single open window. Her head hurt something fierce, pounding against her skull as if a bass drum was being played inside her brain. But what really frightened her was the mere fact that she couldn't remember anything.

"Hey there, Greenbean."

She jumped at the sudden gruff voice, her head snapping towards the source. A dark-skinned boy was standing by the side of the bed she lay on, staring down at her with narrowed eyes and a slight scowl on his face. His arms were crossed over his chest; both parts of his body were fairly buff, and veins popped out of the exposed skin of his arms.

"Who are you?" She surprised herself by speaking, even more surprised when her very own voice sounded foreign to her ears. A slight frown found its way on to her chapped lips as she noticed a glint of humor in the dark-skinned boy's eyes.

He ignored her question entirely, acting as though he hadn't even heard her speak. He took a step towards her, looking down at her in such a way that almost made her flinch away. "Do you remember anything- anything at all? What's your name?"

She watched him through narrowed eyes, nothing but skepticism and distrusting thoughts running through her amnesiac mind. She didn't know who this boy was, nor what his intentions were with her. She had no idea where she was, or what she was doing there; she hadn't any clue who she even was, except for the fact that she remembered her name- a miniscule part of the person she was.

"Eleanor," she found herself saying before she could convince herself to do otherwise. The name sounded foreign on her tongue, though at the same time, right. Her voice sounded foreign, as well- as if it weren't even her own.

It was different from the dark-skinned boy's voice; not only because it was higher pitched, but it had a different tone to it. She stretched out syllables unlike that boy, and the way she said her words were different. It was warmer than this stranger's, in more ways than one.

"Your name is the only thing they let you keep," the unknown boy said, his tone emotionless, as was his face. "My name is Alby."

"They?" Eleanor repeated, confused. "Who are they?"

Alby didn't respond. Instead, he stood to his feet, wiping his hands on his dirty trousers, and reached his hand out towards her. Eleanor grabbed it, expecting it to be a simple handshake. But Alby pulled her to her feet, and rather harshly; she was startled by the amount of force behind the simple action.