Two: Green Haven
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My eyes open, and I look towards my arm. It aches uncomfortably, but I am pleased to see that all the needles are now out of it. I am, thankfully, bandaged up well. I go to flex my arm but let out a groan of pain as it feels like it is being crushed underneath a wall of concrete.

The other thing I notice, despite the unbearable pain, is that my restraints no longer hold me down. I am finally able to get up and move as freely as possible in this room. My weight shifts forward and my eyes find the walls. My non-hurt arm moves slightly, and my fingers graze the material. 

They are not doubt sterile, with minimal dust coming off them. Everything here, from what I can tell, has been extremely commonplace. Nothing here is particularly eye-catching.

"Number two-twenty-seven, how are you feeling?" I jump up a little bit as I scan the room to find the source of the voice. It only takes me a mere second before I spot a small camera in the corner. I simply give it an emotionless stare.

"I don't know." How am I supposed to know how I feel? My head is nothing short of a jumbled disarray of thoughts. I have no idea who I am nor what I am doing here; it felt like I am trapped in an endless game that I can never win.

"In a few moments, your overseer will come and bring you outside your room. You will have restraints on at all times. He will be here in a few moments." I let out a huff and observe my hands. Restraints? Really? I have been drained all of the energy; there is no way I can put up a fight even if I sought to.

I go back to my chair and sat down, and await the "overseer's" arrival. My head still hurts from the IV fluid and whatever they decided to inject into my body.

My heart nearly stops when my ears pick up the sound of a knock from my door. It quickly flew open, and I notice a young man walk-in with restraints in his hands. He could have not be much older than me, perhaps a year or two my senior. His outfit is a bit different from mine; he had a long sleeve shirt and white pants.

"Greetings two-twenty-seven, my name is sixty-three. I am here to take you to the outdoor area."

"What is your real name?"

"I have not been given permission to give you that information. Please put your arms out so I can put your restraints on."

I cross my arms and did not budge from my chair. His dark brown hair is swept to the side while his hazelnut-colored eyes seem to look through me. 

He appears to be drained of energy, and, truth be told, lackluster.

"Only if you tell me your name."

"I have not been given permission to give you that information."

"Then I will not go outside, leave me alone."

The boy freezes for a second, his stance unbalanced as confusion wavers along his face. It is obvious this is not the reaction that he expected. He waits a moment before we both hear the speaker go off.

"Your request has been granted, two-twenty-seven. Sixty-three has been allowed permission to give his name." We both are a bit taken aback before he nods his head. I am unnerved, however, knowing that they are listening to every syllable of our conversation.

"My name is Zade also known as number sixty-three. You will call me sixty-three; so, can you now just please put the restraints on." 

Zade . . . it sounds familiar. Like a word on the tip of my tongue that I can't quite place to an item. I can feel my head tilt before I nod; they granted my request, so I will follow their mischievous plan. I rather play their game before I make any moves. I figure I have a reason to be hesitant when I have been drugged, held captive, and had my memories wiped.

I walk towards Zade and noticed the heat that radiates off his body; it is almost soothing, in an unusual way. I hold out my hands, and he places the restraints on me. They were similar to handcuffs, but there is a device build on both sides that flashes red every few seconds.

"What are these?"

"Zap devices. If you do anything that is not warranted by the central, then you will be electrocuted. I highly recommend not activating them."

"Duly noted." He opens the door and allows me through; we then start down a hallway. It is just as plain as my room; everything is white, sterile, and tedious. 

There are other doors, similar to mine, my eyes catch attention about the numbers that are written on whiteboards to the side of them. 

Something that truly baffles me, however, is that the numbers did not line up in order. Rather they are nothing short of a discombobulated mess.

"What is with the rooms? Shouldn't they be in order?"

"Most of the numbers in between have passed away."

"Excuse me? Did you just say they died? How can you say that so nonchalantly? Are you dense?"

"Yes, two-twenty-seven. I am not allowed to give any more information; however, that will be provided to you in the near future."

"You can't just tell me something of that magnitude and then provide no other information?" I let out an exasperated breath for extra emotion, but he only looks ahead,  seemingly emotionless. 

"I am not allowed to give any more information. I would recommend not saying anything else or punishment will be enforced."

I grind my teeth together and keep my trap shut as we take a right at the end of the hallway. This place is nothing short of a maze. I can never figure out this trap if I tried. 

He then keeps me down the hall where there are more rooms with numbers on them. I can see there are a few people in them; they appear to be lifeless, ghostly pale and hooked up the IVs like I was only a few, what I can be assumed, days ago.

Zade eventually comes to a stop where there is a set of double doors leading to an auditorium of some sort. He opens one of the doors and allows me to enter forth.

I cautiously pass him and am relieved to take in a real breath of fresh air that isn't full of the stench of chemicals. It is clean, full of life. Plants of all types surround me: trees, vines, flower beds, and berries. There are pathways that lead to the center where a giant fountain lies, benches surrounding it. People walk around, some, too, have restraints on them.

Zade clears his throat and lets a hint of a genuine smile through his cold exterior,

"Welcome to the Green Haven."

"Wow," my breath is nothing short of a mere whisper. My steps are quiet as I walk along the well-trimmed grass.

 I proceed to run my shackled hands over one of the flower bushes.

 My heart sank and anger flares when I get stabbed in my thumb. It is sudden and throws me off guard; I panic and retract my hand suddenly.

"Okay, what the fu--"

"Watch your language, number two-twenty-seven. This is a warning, next time they will zap you." I roll my eyes and put my bleeding thumb to my mouth, trying to stop any blood from flowing. 

My thumb still aches when Zade lets out a small, visible eye roll. He grabs my arm and makes my eyes gaze down at my thumb

I was shocked to see that the cut from the plant was already healed; I put on a confused frown before looking deeply at my thumb. I wiped it off on my shirt before bringing it up again to inspect. It is... healed?

"How did that happen? I swear, it was bleeding only a few seconds ago."

"That's what makes us different." I leaned my head and placed my weight on my back leg.

"Different?"

"Two-twenty-seven, there is a reason we are on constant watch, and that the central wants to make sure we don't step out of this building."

 

"The --- central?"

This word is simply foreign to me, so how would I know what in the world that is? 

My head tilts while Zade bites his lip and shakes his head. Anxiety being buried deep within those light brown eyes.

"It is not for me to mention, for I have spoken too much. Just know that you are more important than everyone else outside this facility." 

Well, that certainly didn't bring me any closer to a conclusion besides the fact that I am important compared to those outside of this place.

It only makes my interest grow as my eyes find the glass ceiling above; the sun shining through as heat radiates upon my skin. It feels comfortable, a vague memory that refuses to surface through my head.

"So, you can't tell me anything?"

"It is not my place to say anything. For those who monitor us will do so when you have earned the right."

"The right? So what am I, a slave? A product? You seriously can't tell me anything? Are you just as manipulative as them?"

"Two twenty-seven, this is my last warning to you."

I lower my facial expression and glare at Zade, stomping off deep into the greenhouse. People take notice and gaze at me, some intrigued whereas others give me cold stares. Zade jogs to catch up and we both remain speechless; it is uncomfortable and impenetrable silence. He knows I want answers, and I know he has them.

I continue down one of the various pathways that lead deeper into the spacious greenhouse; I notice that with every step the plants only grow wilder, vines and wildflowers littering the perimeter walls uncontrollably. 

When I approach the edge, I take note that the wall was made of glass, and on the outside there looks to be a city. It appears that this facility sits upon a hill of some sort as buildings of all shapes and sizes span below us. There were thousands of architectures, and, from what I can tell, there were people spread around like ants on the ground.

It is stunning, familiar, but, at the same time, it is depressing. These people... they are different compared to what I am.  I am stuck, trapped like a mouse in a cage. On the other they are free; like birds that fly through the sky whilst the sun rises on a chilly, autumn morning. 

Is it better to be free with a life of hardship or contained with a life that is overlooked by an ominous entity with unknown intentions?

For I rather be down there amongst the crowd than be a test subject for these --- people. I have no idea who I am, or what I am. All I know is that I was placed in this ominous hell hole where disquieted people poke and prod at my body for days on end. 

This world seems to be familiar yet so murky at the same time. It is like my head is stuck in a dense, thick fog.

My hand glazes over the glass and my breath is shallowly released; it is both elongated and exasperated for additional effect. The sterile air feels like it is going to suffocate me.

Deep within in my mind, I know this is not where I belong. 

"Two-twenty-seven," my eyes pierce daggers at Zade and he suddenly looks frozen. I notice the miniature piece of metal that rests along the crevice of his ear. He seems to be back in focus as his eyes roam around, searching for someone or something. After a few, long moments, Zade nods and looks back at me.

"It is time that you return back to your room. Dinner will be served to you from there."

"Do I have to go back?"

"It is not my decision. I am just your overseer as of the moment."

"Yes, I think I understand that by now. I finally get it. You can't do anything because you are just another pawn in whoever the hell's game this is. We are all pawns. The people that are talking in your little ear have you twisted around their tiny, demanding, little fingers. I may not have any memories, but I sure as hell know that this is not where I am supposed to be."

Zade seems shocked for a moment and is stuck in a loop of taciturnity. I, on the other hand, can't remain silent as an electric spark runs down my arms. A cry of pain makes its way out of my mouth as the sparks entered my bones. My limbs shake vigorously, my legs wobbly to the point where I am nearly unable to properly stand on my feet without stumbling over.

After a few seconds, air returns back to my lungs. I grab Zade with one of my hands and drove my nails deep into his skin.

"What was that?"

"I warned you two-twe---"

"Willow. My name is Willow."

"I can't say t ---"

"I swear to god," I let out a deep breath and claw my arms into him," my name is Willow, and you will address me as so, or else I won't be this civil again. Now, take me back to my room." 

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