Knowledge Pt.3

Knowledge pt.3

check the other parts here!

Summary:

The story begins the same for everyone, on the day of the ceremony, one of the most important for all the kids who take part in it every year, and Michelle will not miss the opportunity to leave behind a faction that she did not feel belonged to her.

On her journey, however, she will encounter someone who will make her initiation feel like hell.

Pairing: Eric Coulter x reader

Wordk Count: 6.5k

That night, Michelle couldn't sleep, whether it was due to the snoring of several of her companions or simply because she hadn't yet fully realized where she was.

She chose a bunk bed with Sunny, taking the cot below, figuring that with her habit of sleeping little at night, it would be more comfortable and effective to be underneath.

The beds were uncomfortable, hard as rocks, and sleeping on the floor would probably have been more pleasant, but the other initiates, unlike her, were already deep in the world of dreams.

Michelle sat on the floor with her back against the edge of the bed, gazing ahead at the open showers and bathrooms, a small source of light emanating from there. It was the only light in the entire room.

If it hadn't been for the thin rays of light seeping through the cracks of the door, the room would have been completely engulfed in darkness. She could barely make out the shapes of the beds, let alone who was who.

She pulled out the photo of her and Anne from under the pillow, smiling as she looked at it. She had managed to sneak it into initiation with her, hiding it under the bed while they changed to take their belongings to be incinerated.

She didn't mind seeing her clothes burn; it was like tangible proof that her past no longer existed. Ellie Black was gone; she had been replaced by a better version of herself.

Michelle.

She promised herself to give her best, to push herself to the limit, and to prove to everyone that she was the best by coming out on top. It wouldn't be easy; she was practically starting from scratch unlike many others; she was agile, fast, but lacked the physical strength she would need for the first part of initiation.

She spent the entire night wandering around the dormitory, curious to see if it held any secrets; of course, she found nothing and remained seated at the foot of her bed contemplating her choice to join the Dauntless.

It was done now; she couldn't go back or she would become an outcast, and if there was one thing she would rather do than be cast out from the faction, it was certainly to die. She would throw herself off the cliff if necessary.

She didn't understand where this innate fear of hers was coming from; when she had stepped onto the platform just a few hours earlier, she had been struck by lightning, realizing that it was the right choice.

Her place was with the Dauntless; she just had to learn to live with it.

She took advantage of the fact that everyone was asleep to take a quick shower, which turned into a full-fledged session. She stayed under the water long enough to hear her first companions waking up.

As the water streamed down her body, Michelle scrubbed vigorously at the dirt she had accumulated throughout the day, from climbing onto the platform to jumping off a moving train. She wasn't dirty, just a bit dusty, but she felt weighed down by it, her only thought being to rid herself of that sensation.

She rubbed so many times at different parts of her body that they began to redden, tingling slightly. She ignored the faint burning sensation before getting dressed and putting on the clothes they had issued that evening. They could go pick out clothes of their choice the next day with the points they were given weekly.

Eric had explained to her how things worked in the faction; there was no money, only points, earned by working or, if participating in initiation, given weekly in small amounts for personal indulgences.

Unless one had a private kitchen, everyone ate in the mess hall, saving on food expenses. The rest, besides clothes, were things they could easily do without.

But there was one thing Michelle wanted to get, a sketchbook to start drawing again. In the short time she had spent in that faction, she had felt inspired for many new drawings; she was brimming with ideas; between the cliff, the Pit, and the various tattoos, she had plenty to work with.

"You're an early bird, huh?" chuckled Sunny, still half asleep with a towel in hand for a quick shower.

Michelle smiled at her disheveled hair, resembling a bird's nest in its disorder. "I didn't sleep."

Sunny stopped and looked at her, eyes wide open. "You're crazy. If you don't sleep, you won't have the strength for training."

Her concern made Michelle smile even more. She had a friend.

"I don't need much to feel rested," she replied, pulling her hair into a tight ponytail for the day; it would be the most efficient solution to keep her hair out of her face.

"Maybe not for you, but for your body," Sunny continued as she undressed, stepping into the warm water and sighing at the heat. "It's not good for your head either; you need to sleep a certain number of hours to be fully functional."

Michelle didn't respond, but someone else did in her place. When she heard the voice, she recognized it immediately, rolling her eyes and trying to brush her teeth as quickly as possible.

"There's no need to repeat it to her; she's always been like this. A stubborn head that doesn't understand a thing."

Chloe stepped up to the sink next to Michelle's, splashing water on her face and smiling at the girl beside her. "Isn't that right, Ellie?"

"Ellie? Who's Ellie?" Sunny's voice sounded muffled under the water stream, but both former Candors heard her clearly.

"Our dear Michelle. Her real name is Ellie, or rather, it was," Chloe's tone was sharp for no apparent reason; Michelle had no problem admitting that she had decided to leave her past behind.

"Michelle?" Sunny stepped out of the shower and didn't find her new friend, but instead the girl she had just been talking to and two other guys she remembered being from Michelle's old faction.

"Oh, get used to this," replied one of the guys, the one with a buzz cut.

She looked at him confused, not knowing what he was referring to.

"Ellie takes off, silently. Don't be surprised if she leaves you in the mess to save her own ass," said the other guy, slightly shorter than the first.

She didn't know how to respond honestly, watching them while clutching her towel to her chest, immediately feeling intimidated. The girl smiled at her before turning on her heels and heading back to the dormitory.

After all, it was only six in the morning.

While Sunny was left alone in the dormitory bathrooms, Michelle was exploring the Pit. It was empty, a stark contrast from when they had arrived the day before.

There were few people, just some Dauntless heading to work or simply going to sleep after a long night shift. It was cold, very cold, and Michelle blamed it on the fact that the structure was built into the stone, consequently isolating the warmth.

She wrapped herself in the black leather jacket provided to her; it wouldn't be the most comfortable for training, so she decided to wear a simple hoodie underneath.

Trying to remember where the mess hall was, she crossed the Pit and thankfully found it right in front of her. The day before, they had taken twice as long, having taken the opposite route to see the cliff; maybe it wasn't the labyrinth she had thought it was.

As she entered the mess hall, she was pleasantly surprised to see that it was almost entirely empty, only a few Dauntless were present. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Four, sitting at the same table they had dined at the previous evening.

She decided to sit at the same table as him, directly across. When she sat down, Four looked up and gave a slight smile. "Isn't it a bit early for you, initiate?"

Michelle looked at him, feeling bored from hearing the same thing twice in a short period of time. She ignored him and poured herself a strong cup of coffee, without adding any sugar or milk, receiving a disgusted glance from her instructor.

"What?" she asked, taking a sip from the cup, savoring the pure taste of coffee that filled her mouth.

"Nothing, I just don't know many people who like their coffee plain, and... that's it."

Michelle shrugged, grabbing a slice of toast for breakfast.

She looked around the mess hall to see who was there at that early hour and pleasantly noticed that there wasn't a soul around. Just then, she spotted Eric and Max sitting at a table in the center of the room; had they just arrived?

She narrowed her eyes observing the blond, he seemed bothered by something Max was saying. They spoke in hushed and suspicious tones, one of them calm, relaxed on the bench where he sat, while the other had a cold, furious expression as he listened to what his superior had to say.

"Ignore them, it's for your own good," Four tried to warn her, but Michelle didn't shift her gaze from the unusual pair, continuing to watch them closely, wishing she could read lips at that moment.

Max turned his head slightly and caught Michelle watching them out of the corner of his eye; he whispered something to Eric, who suddenly turned his head to look at the girl.

Michelle decided it might be best to stop staring and resumed her breakfast, trying to ignore the tension building in her body from being caught. Eric's gaze was sharp, cold. It was intimidating.

She tried her hardest not to turn around to see if they were still talking, but glancing at Four, she immediately understood that someone in particular was approaching. She expected to feel a presence sitting at their table any moment, but instead, two hands fell heavily on her shoulders.

"What do we have here?" Eric's voice was almost amused as he began to move his hands over Michelle's shoulders, who was confused and scared at the same time.

Scared not because she had been caught staring, but because it felt like he was giving her a massage. With his thumbs, he started to knead her shoulder blades, and she even found it strangely enjoyable until he found a spot on both sides and pressed down, causing her to straighten up with her back immediately.

Michelle cried out in pain, but Eric didn't seem to have any intention of letting her go.

"Eric, let her go. She hasn't done anything," Four stood up abruptly, attracting the attention of the few people in the mess hall, who began to watch the scene and whisper among themselves.

"I'm not talking to you, Four. Sit down," he glared at his peer, who reluctantly took his seat again. "So, what do we have here, huh? A nosy little initiate?"

Michelle remained silent, and Eric, not appreciating her silence, pressed even harder on her shoulder blades. Michelle gritted her teeth at the unpleasant sensation, not exactly painful, but very uncomfortable.

"If I ask you a question, you have to answer me, initiate," Eric lowered himself to her eye level and whispered into her ear. "Huh? Has someone cut out your tongue already?"

The mocking tone in Eric's voice annoyed her, and before speaking, she swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat, hoping her voice wouldn't tremble when she spoke. "Nothing."

It came out no more than a whisper, and Eric smiled, a rather unpleasant smile according to Michelle; it was the kind of chilling smile, sadistic.

"Nothing? Are you sure, because a moment ago you seemed very interested in our conversation," now he was whispering too, amused by the situation. Max had told him to let it go, that hers was just too much curiosity, nothing to punish a girl for.

But he saw the perfect opportunity to make her talk, whether she wanted to or not. He had seen her the previous evening, silently around people who talked too much, and his curiosity was evident.

Why wasn't she speaking?

Eric stopped pressing on her shoulders, but he didn't release his grip. He straightened up and gave her two pats on the back.

"Nothing, huh? See how you'll become nothing in no time," he said, walking away without saying goodbye.

Only then did Michelle realize the silence that had fallen over the entire mess hall, causing her to blush slightly and lower her head over her own cup. She resumed sipping her coffee under Four's watchful gaze.

She was afraid she wouldn't make it; Eric's words certainly didn't help. The initiation itself was already tough, she didn't need one of the faction leaders against her as well.

Four noticed the slight trembling of her hands despite her efforts to appear impassive; he sighed, continuing to watch her.

"Don't listen to him, you have a chance like everyone else," his voice was gentle, and Michelle looked at him, grateful for his attempt at reassurance.

But the fear of not making it, of becoming an outcast, had already solidified in her mind. She would have to give her best to succeed, to use all her non-physical skills to win because she knew she didn't have much strength.

"Everything okay? You both look like you've seen a ghost," Lauren, full of energy as usual, took a seat next to Michelle for breakfast. Her good mood waned slightly as she noticed that neither her colleague nor the new recruit had said anything yet.

"Michelle, I told you to be careful. It's not a joke," Four stood up from the table, visibly annoyed.

Lauren turned to Michelle to find out what had happened, curious about her friend's strange behavior, but she ignored her, continuing to drink her cup of coffee.

The rest of the faction didn't take long to wake up; by seven in the morning, the mess hall began to fill up, and Michelle decided it was time to head to the training quarters, even if it was an hour early.

She left Lauren with a nod, which she returned with a smile. As she passed through the doors of the mess hall, she encountered Sunny and other initiates heading to breakfast.

"Hey, where are you going?" Sunny stopped her, grabbing her forearm and pausing with her.

"I'm going to find the gym," she replied, waiting for Sunny to let her go.

"Oh, okay. See you later."

Michelle began to walk through the Pit, trying to figure out where the gym actually was; there were no signs or anything that could indicate where the facility might be.

The Pit had come back to life; children ran recklessly, risking bumping into Michelle at any moment, and several Dauntless headed to work, opening the shops that faced the Pit.

She had to give the impression of being lost because someone touched her shoulder, catching her off guard. She jumped back and heard a raspy laugh.

"Hey, easy there. Didn't mean to scare you!" It was the man Max had been talking to while they waited for all the initiates to jump off the roof.

"Everything okay? Are you lost?" Michelle observed him, getting lost in the intricate tattoos that covered almost all of his skin. The man must have noticed because he smiled and rolled up his sleeves. "Do you like tattoos?"

"Yes," she replied, continuing to admire the ink patterns on his arms, fascinated.

"Where's training happening?" she asked, still captivated by his tattoos.

"See that corridor?" The man pointed to a hallway at the far end of the Pit. "There are stairs, lots of stairs, that will take you straight to where you need to go."

"Thanks," she said, tearing her gaze away from his tattoos to head towards the corridor he'd indicated. But before she could leave, he stopped her. Michelle turned to him, puzzled.

"Feel free to drop by the tattoo shop anytime. Tori and I run it. You could get one yourself." Despite his distinctive appearance, filled with piercings and covered in tattoos from head to toe, he seemed like a genuinely kind person.

He spoke to Michelle with kindness, and there was everything but ill intent in his eyes.

Michelle nodded before leaving.

The hallways were as dark as any other, and she paled at the thought of the number of stairs she'd have to climb to reach the dormitories; stairs upon stairs.

During her journey, she encountered no one, making her feel as if she were in the wrong place. After about five minutes of nothing but stairs, she reached a long, empty, dimly lit corridor. From a distance, she saw iron doors and cautiously opened them.

She was relieved to see that she was in the right place. At that moment, she understood why it took her so long to get there, with all those stairs; it was the interior of an old factory, probably, a vast empty space set up with various machinery and objects for training.

In the center of the room were four mats that she guessed would be used for hand-to-hand combat, while a few meters away, several punching bags were hung from a beam.

On the other side of the room, in a corner, there were machines that she had already seen during one of her explorations in an old abandoned complex. It was a weightlifting area.

"You're early," Four's voice echoed through the empty room, and Michelle turned to try to figure out where he was.

Four was on a bench near the mats, holding a bottle. Michelle shrugged and approached, surveying the place with attentive eyes.

"You never talk?" Four asked curiously, watching her as she moved around the gym.

"I don't like to," Michelle simply replied, touching the punching bags to gauge their weight. When she saw that they didn't budge at her touch, she realized she'd likely end up hurting her knuckles.

"I figured as much. You'll be hot in that sweater during training," Four remarked.

Michelle shrugged again, ignoring him, and Four smiled, mimicking her. In doing so, he earned a glare from her, and to defend himself, he raised his hands in the air.

The door opened again with a loud noise, grabbing both of their attention. Four stood up when he noticed Eric entering with Lauren.

They were an odd pair, with Eric looking ready to kill someone and Lauren walking with all the tranquility in the world. When she saw the initiate, she smiled.

"Always early, I like that," she said as she passed by, giving Michelle a friendly punch on the arm.

However, Eric didn't seem pleased with that small interaction and decided to stay silent, with a bored expression on his face as he took a seat on one of the benches opposite to where Four had placed his belongings.

The latter began reviewing data on a tablet, while Lauren took a seat on the other side of the gym where an area similar to where they were now was set up.

Michelle stood with her hands in her pockets, watching Four tinkering with the tablet and occasionally glancing at the blonde to her right, who seemed intent on wrapping his knuckles.

She didn't realize she was staring until she locked eyes with Eric. She immediately looked away, not wanting to risk getting in trouble like she had an hour before, and fortunately, the other initiates, both interns and transfer ones, diverted Eric's attention from her.

Michelle approached where Four was positioned. She began to feel anxious, unsure of what to expect from the first training session, and she sincerely hoped that Eric was only there to supervise.

It was barely eight in the morning, and his knuckles were already sore, blood staining the wraps he had just put on.

In a few minutes, all eleven transfer initiates gathered in front of Eric and Four, who silently observed the initiates. They waited for silence before speaking.

"The initiation is divided into three different modules: the first is more physical, the second emotional, and the third mental. These three phases will last for two months. After these, if you pass, you'll officially be part of the Dauntless," Four began, walking towards the huge windows, and Michelle was grateful she had brought her jacket.

The sky was overcast, as it had been for the past few days, indicating they wouldn't have a sunny day for a while. One of the windows lacked glass, and they passed through it to enter a rooftop, which was set up with various targets and types of firearms.

"One per station!" Four shouted, standing in front of the table where the weapons were positioned, picking up a couple and approaching the initiates to distribute them. "The three modules carry different weights on your score, so don't worry if you're not good at something; you have a chance to catch up."

"If you're not good, you'll be thrown out," Eric added, entering the rooftop behind them with a nonchalant and bored air. He took his place at the table where Four was handing out the guns.

He reached Michelle and handed her the pistol; it felt heavy in her hands, and if she were honest, she didn't like it. She weighed it, passing it from hand to hand, feeling it.

It didn't feel right in her hands. 

"Now copy my position," Four positioned himself, holding the pistol with both hands, legs slightly apart for balance. "And fire."

His shot was perfect. It hit the center of the target's head.

Michelle began to tremble slightly, feeling awkward with the gun in her hand, and looking around, it seemed like everyone else had already done it. She raised the gun and spread her legs.

Around her, several shots rang out, but few of them hit the target. Even fewer were lethal.

She was the only one who hadn't fired a shot yet. She felt as if the gun would explode in her hand if she did.

She felt Four's presence behind her before seeing or hearing him. "Everything okay?" he asked, looking at the target with her, still devoid of holes.

Michelle nodded slightly, and he looked at her, immediately understanding what the problem was. It wasn't the first time he had seen someone react that way to a gun; it was a natural reaction to be afraid of a firearm.

With a gentle touch, he adjusted her stance, nudging her legs apart a little more with his foot.

"If it helps, close one eye to aim," he said, waiting for her to pull the trigger. Michelle took a deep breath, closing her eyes to try to isolate herself from her surroundings.

She opened her eyes and took aim, still trembling a bit, but when she fired the first shot, she managed to hit the silhouette. Nothing lethal, but she would certainly have lost the use of her right leg if it had been a person.

"Well done," he said before moving on to the person next to her.

Michelle smiled at having managed to pull the trigger and looked around, unconsciously searching for Sunny. She saw her busy shooting at a position a little to the right of her, and when she looked at Sunny's target, she was surprised to see two shots to the head, lethal, and some to the abdomen.

When she realized someone was watching her, she turned, locking eyes with Michelle. Sunny smiled at her, a euphoric expression on her face.

Michelle resumed shooting at her target, but she could only hit the arms or legs. She huffed in frustration at not being able to get closer to the heart or head.

"Is that the best you can do?" Eric's derisive tone caught her off guard, turning her head so quickly it gave her a headache.

She watched him in silence, hoping that after this comment, he would leave to torment another initiate. But he stayed there, arms crossed over his chest, watching her as if she were incapable.

"Shoot."

Michelle turned, the trembling in her hands more pronounced under the critical gaze of one of the leaders. She took a breath and took aim. The shot threw her off balance a bit, feeling the recoil more than before.

Surprisingly, she managed to hit the area between the neck and shoulder.

"See you below the red line, initiate," Eric whispered in her ear.

He left Michelle at her station, annoyed to see so many incompetent people gathered together. His eye fell on a girl, the shortest among them all, who had managed to hit the head, heart, and abdomen with every shot.

He stopped behind her, observing her technique. She was short, lacking muscles, without curves, but she had good technique.

The girl realized his presence behind her and briefly turned her head to see who it was. Seeing Eric, she turned her head back to the target, frightened. The stories from Four and Lauren had terrified her; she wanted to have as little to do with him as possible.

"Name?" his tone was monotone.

"T-Tina," she stammered, glancing to her left to observe Max, who watched the scene suspiciously.

"Not bad," he said, returning to take a round to see how the other initiates were faring.

Tina blushed at the compliment, turning to Max to silently celebrate.

Four kept an eye on him, feeling his gaze on his back, and if he were honest, he was annoyed by that behavior. He turned to look at him, catching him again near the same initiate he had sat next to at breakfast that morning.

What was so special about her? He had been wondering since Max, at breakfast that morning, had told him to keep an eye on Michelle. He hadn't told him why, just to be careful of her movements.

He didn't understand; she was obviously incapable, lacking muscles or strength, and she would be thrown out at the end of the first module. Wasting energy on such a recruit was pointless in his opinion.

They remained on the roof for the entire morning, shot after shot, everyone managed to become familiar with the pistol. Some more than others.

Sunny joined Michelle as soon as Four declared that they would have an hour for lunch, releasing them.

"It was amazing!" exclaimed Sunny, taking Michelle's arm, who, on the contrary, had a rather annoyed expression. Her arms and fingers were tingling from the effort of holding the gun up in the air for hours.

"Don't you like it?" Tina asked, joining the two girls and noticing Michelle's unhappy expression. "I thought it was so cool!"

"You did great," commented Sunny.

"Thank you, you were pretty good too," Tina took Sunny side to talk to her, but they were interrupted by Max, who, in a rather impolite manner, barged into the conversation.

"I, girls, was much better than all of you put together," he puffed up his chest, strutting around like a peacock to show off.

Tina shoved him playfully, laughing. "Yeah, right. That's why Eric came to compliment you," she said proudly, and Michelle felt a twinge of jealousy knowing that he had complimented her, when instead he had told her that she wouldn't even pass to the next module.

Michelle detached herself from the group, irritated by Tina's showing off. She knew it was a bit of an overreaction, she had no reason to take it so personally, but knowing that she was already on thin ice made her even more irritable than before.

"Hey…" Sunny tried to call out to her in vain, Michelle quickened her pace to reach the cafeteria.

She arrived at the cafeteria sooner than expected, overtaking anyone in her way, and when she reached the Pit, she was joined by Sunny. Unconsciously, she relaxed, a more serene expression on her face knowing that her one friend in that faction was by her side.

In many ways, Sunny reminded her of Anne, perhaps it was the fact that she was insistent and wouldn't leave unless she spoke to her.

"Are you sure everything is okay?" she asked, approaching her because of the noise in the cafeteria. A worried expression on her face.

Michelle pondered whether to tell her or if it was too stupid of a reason, but seeing her so concerned, she decided to talk to her about it. "Eric is convinced that I won't pass the first module."

Sunny looked at her first surprised and then angry. "Don't listen to him, we've just started. You have plenty of time to improve, and besides, you weren't even among the worst. Some didn't even hit an arm on the target!"

"I don't know what to say," Michelle shrugged and went to sit at the same table she had chosen since it always seemed to be empty.

"Ignore him, show him that you're the best in here," Sunny clung to her arm, smiling, and Michelle couldn't help but laugh along.

She reminded her too much of Anne.

"Anyway," Michelle lifted her head from her plate when she heard Sunny speaking to her, "What do you think of the other initiates?"

Michelle looked around to locate where the remaining nine initiates were sitting. Most of the former Erudite were sitting together, except for the brunette in front of her; the two Abnegation were sitting by themselves with the lone former Amity.

Then there were her former faction mates, talking amongst themselves on the other side of the cafeteria.

She shrugged. "Nothing special."

"True, but that Patrik over there is really good at shooting. He also seems to be in good shape," Michelle turned to look at the boy sitting with Chloe and Connor, with his usual cocky expression.

Michelle remembered all the times she saw him bullying some poor kid at school; it was obvious he was in good shape. He was the type of person who sailed through every situation, and it was almost normal for him to be so comfortable among the Dauntless.

"I guess you two don't get along from the way you're looking at him," Sunny turned to her, smiling mischievously.

"He's been a jerk since we were kids, that's all," Michelle replied bluntly.

"Yeah, it shows," her friend said lightly, returning to her meal.

The remaining ten minutes passed in silence as they finished eating and headed back to the training quarters. Michelle and Sunny were the first to leave the cafeteria and the first to arrive in the gym, after Four, of course.

He turned to look at them when they entered and then returned to writing something on a whiteboard placed near the various mats used for combat. "Today we start with techniques, we don't want you to get hurt."

"Good," Sunny said, starting to stretch, receiving confused looks from Michelle. "You should stretch too; it will make your muscles hurt less."

Michelle trusted her, especially after Four nodded in agreement with her friend. She stood next to her, copying her movements, and discovered that she was more flexible than she had imagined.

It didn't take more than ten minutes, just enough time for the huge room to fill up again with the transfers.

Michelle looked around and was relieved not to see Eric with them, but rather in the distance with the Dauntless kids and Lauren. Maybe this time she would be able to do her best without feeling intimidated.

She was wrong.

Eric's presence or absence didn't change the fact that she struggled to move the punching bag. She was relieved to see that many of her other classmates were in the same situation, although not exactly as bad.

Four moved from initiate to initiate to correct their form and give advice on how to improve, but when he came to her, he remained silent, observing her.

"You lack strength," he remarked, moving from her right side to her left. Michelle felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment. "But you're fast, very fast. Use that to your advantage."

He helped her improve her form, slightly bending her back and then pointing out critical points to strike. She felt slightly relieved to know that she wasn't completely lost, but that she simply needed to focus more on her tactics than strength.

Four had been kind in correcting her mistakes, in highlighting her weakness, but she knew that when Eric passed by, he could bury her. 

As she continued to hit the punching bag, she thought about how much harder than expected it would be to pass the initiation; she never imagined it would be so tough. Had something changed?

Towards the end of the training, Four stopped them and ordered them to pair up according to what was written on the whiteboard. Michelle paused for a moment to catch her breath and, walking towards the whiteboard, saw that her name was not paired with anyone.

She looked at Four in confusion, who approached her. "You're odd, one of you had to be with me."

Everyone took their places on the mats, and Four began to speak. "Now apply what you've done so far between yourselves. Don't hit each other hard; it's just to get the hang of the movements."

He turned to Michelle, giving her a small smile. "You start."

Initially, she was worried about having to train with their instructor, thinking he would be too harsh, but instead, it was pleasant; the movements were fluid, and every mistake he corrected, showing her a more effective way to defend or attack.

"Four!" all the initiates stopped to watch Eric advance towards them, a malicious grin on his face. "Allow me to give a demonstration."

Four looked at him grimly, not pleased with his tone and behavior. He approached them and took his place in front of Michelle, before casting a brief glance at the other initiates.

"Continuing like this will get you nowhere," he said sternly. "You have to prove that you're the best for us to choose you."

He assumed an attacking position, and Michelle watched him, immediately going into defense mode. She tried to hide the trembling in her hands as people began to surround them to watch the scene.

Everyone knew Michelle wouldn't come out of this without a bit of blood. Especially Four.

"Now watch, and maybe you'll learn something," Eric said before turning his attention back to Michelle, immediately noticing her insecurity and trembling. He smiled, pleased with her reaction.

Eric began to circle, forcing Michelle to move. He waited a few seconds before taking a step and then attacking, which she immediately noticed, allowing her to dodge the punch coming her way.

He was surprised, he had to admit.

After the first missed strike, he focused on the poor girl, launching blow after blow but failing to land a hit. Sunny watched them tense, ready to assist her friend as soon as something happened.

Four was surprised; he had noticed her speed but underestimated her tactics; Michelle could anticipate Eric's moves.

Eric, unlike Four, was more pissed off and annoyed than surprised. Sure, it was lasting longer than he wanted, but the fact that he missed her by inches was infuriating him.

Their skirmish picked up speed, and Michelle began to miss shots; her anxiety was starting to get the better of her. Her movements became less precise, and with a lunge, Eric managed to graze her, making him realize that this was his chance.

Michelle tried to dodge his strikes, but with each blow, Eric was getting closer and closer to hitting her. She was short of breath, her heart racing as she struggled to hold her ground.

The only thing she could focus on were Eric's words, telling her that she wouldn't make it, that she would be eliminated at the end of the first module, and as much as she wanted his words to motivate her, they had the opposite effect.

They dragged her down.

She got distracted for a moment, just a second, and in that moment, Eric managed to land a hit on her cheekbone. Michelle fell to the ground, and for a few seconds, she felt nothing, neither the people around her nor the pain.

But then it came.

She gritted her teeth in pain, the sharp sensation preventing her from opening her eyes. It felt as if her entire face had been shattered into a thousand pieces by that simple punch.

In the background, she could hear Eric's voice speaking to the initiates, but she couldn't focus on his words because of the intense pain.

She remained on the ground for a while, not too long, because when she got up, Eric was still standing in front of her, proud with his arms crossed over his chest as he looked down at her.

He smiled at her. "That's how you get yourself kicked out," he exclaimed to the other initiates before dismissing them.

It was already six o'clock.

Some of them stayed to watch Michelle for a few more seconds before heading back to the dormitory to take a shower. She remained still, holding the right side of her face with her hand, the pressure alleviating the pain.

She stared at Eric, who was still on the mat. He looked back at her, pleased with the blow he had landed; it would leave a nasty bruise if it hadn't already broken it.

They locked eyes, a silent promise to make each other's lives hell.

Knowledge pt.2

check the other parts here!

Summary:

The story begins the same for everyone, on the day of the ceremony, one of the most important for all the kids who take part in it every year, and Michelle will not miss the opportunity to leave behind a faction that she did not feel belonged to her.

On her journey, however, she will encounter someone who will make her initiation feel like hell.

Pairing: Eric Coulter x reader

Word count: 8.8k

It was strange to wake up knowing that your life would change drastically in a few hours. Ellie felt a sense of emptiness as she stared at the ceiling, contemplating whether the Dauntless were the right faction for her.

She was told to trust the Test, that it would make the choice easier, but she couldn't shake the feeling that Dauntless wasn't the right place for her. She saw them every day at school and in the city, running, climbing buildings fearlessly, and imagining herself among them seemed impossible.

With great slowness, she got up, observing her room for the last time. A wave of nostalgia washed over her as she looked at the place where she had spent her childhood, where she spent hours playing with Anne and her father.

Her father.

What would he think of her result? Would he be pleased or outraged by the fact that his only daughter wouldn't carry on his dynasty in Candor?

She grabbed clothes similar to yesterday's from the wardrobe, not thinking that wearing a skirt would be a wise choice if she chose Dauntless. She tied her hair into a tight bun and noticing that she was early, she took the opportunity to spend some time at home.

She would leave everything behind, the practically sterile rooms, empty, devoid of life. In the entire house, only her room seemed lived in, with some drawings on the walls and photos attached here and there.

Looking at a small photo of her and Anne, she wondered whether to take it with her or not, to have a memory of her when they wouldn't see each other anymore. She sighed, thinking about the events of the previous day, about Anne's hostility towards her for no reason.

What had happened? What had triggered such a reaction in Anne?

Her best friend, the kindest and gentlest girl she had ever known.

She sniffled, feeling tears welling up in her eyes, and decided that maybe it was time to go, to leave behind what she hadn't considered home for years. She should be happy to start a new life, to live her dream of being free, but the unknown scared her; she didn't know what she was about to face.

Leaving the house, she grabbed one of their photos, one of the most recent ones, and tucked it into her pocket, hoping to keep it throughout the initiation. It was the only thing she truly cared about having, not even her sketchbook with her drawings was as important.

The journey to the hall where the Choosing Ceremony would take place was relatively close to her home. She didn't bother to rush to be among the first, knowing that, like every year, there would be a few minutes of delay.

She tried to enjoy the last moments in the neighborhood where she lived, the area of the city where the Candor spent most of their lives. As boring as it might seem with all those white skyscrapers, she didn't mind; the Candor were minimalists, and it was one of the few things Ellie appreciated about them.

It was home after all, but it wasn't the right home for her.

Unconsciously, she looked around for Anne, but the girl was nowhere to be seen; most likely, she was already at the Choosing Ceremony with her parents.

She envied her from that perspective, having a nice family that always supported her in everything she did. They didn't care if Anne didn't always tell the truth; they didn't mind if she didn't follow in their footsteps, and least of all, they allowed her the freedom to discover herself.

On the contrary, Ellie felt like a failure despite being one of the best in her class, even outperforming the Erudite students who attended the same lessons. But for her mother, it was never enough; she didn't study enough, didn't talk enough, wasn't honest enough.

She couldn't remember if her mother had always been like this or if she had changed after her husband's disappearance, but deep down, she wondered if it was her fault, if she had been too difficult as a child when she was young.

The day was better compared to yesterday; the sun wasn't too hot, and a gentle breeze cooled her face. If Anne were there with her, she would have joked about how she looked like a ghost, her pale skin matching her white jacket.

From a distance, she began to see the hall where the ceremony would take place, and she felt a lump form in her throat, the anxiety of making the wrong choice. What if Dauntless wasn't the right choice for her? She couldn't go back; she would have to become factionless.

Groups of people arrived slowly, families and friends joking outside the hall as they enjoyed their last moments together. Ellie looked at the people beside her, wondering how many of her peers would leave their original faction to start a new life like her.

A loud noise caught her attention, and turning around, she saw the Dauntless train speeding along the railway. One by one, they began jumping off the cars, miraculously landing on their feet and continuing to run.

It was a mass of black and red with an added splash of color due to the unusual hair that many of the younger ones sported. She wondered if, after the initiation, she would become like them too.

She shook her head at the idea because she would never be one of them. She would never go so far as to get strange hairstyles with odd colors, wear overly revealing shirts, or ripped pants.

If she were to join them and pass the initiation, could she truly become one of them?

What caught her attention, however, were some of their tattoos. From simple designs to intricate masterpieces, they covered much of their skin.

That was what truly fascinated Ellie about their way of life—the freedom to express themselves in any way imaginable.

Ellie lingered outside for a while longer, enjoying the warmth of the sun on her face. She was afraid she wouldn't be brave enough to join the Dauntless.

When she saw people hurrying to enter, she followed, her heart pounding with fear and excitement at finally realizing her dream. She was scared, filled with insecurities, but as she climbed the stairs and saw the five bowls representing the different factions, her thought became clear.

She had five options, but only one choice.

The hall was filled with colors divided into five rows, and Ellie took her place among the Candor, scanning the crowd for Anne. She found her shortly after, seated between her mother and father, rigid in her chair; she was only a few rows ahead of Ellie, yet at the same time, she seemed so distant, unreachable.

She wanted to take advantage of the remaining minutes to go to her, bid her a final farewell, but someone took a seat on both sides of her, trapping her.

The hall fell silent as Jeanine Matthews, the leader of the Erudite faction, stepped onto the pedestal to begin her speech about the Choosing Ceremony.

Every year, a leader from a different faction would present, but Ellie, like others, noticed how over the years Jeanine became increasingly present at these events, like a vulture on a carcass.

Ellie had to admit she respected the woman's ambition, but she found her presence a bit too insistent.

"The faction system is a living organism composed of cells, all of you. And the only way it can survive and thrive is for each of you to claim your rightful place. The future belongs to those who know where they belong."

Her voice echoed in the silent hall, the sound of her heels as she moved in front of the bowls creating a hypnotic rhythm. Her custom-tailored blue attire gave her a distinguished, important look as she held a tablet in her hand.

"Now it's your turn, your chance to choose your future. Don't be afraid, but remember one important thing: faction before blood," the last phrase was echoed by the entire room, by the teenagers and their parents.

It was a concept many didn't agree with, but still respected. Leaving everything behind was difficult; many couldn't bear the distance. However, to allow their city to function effectively, it was the only way.

Ellie agreed, finding that the most important thing to do after changing factions was to rid themselves of the memories that anchored them to their original faction. Perhaps her perception of things was influenced by the way she herself had lived her childhood, alone, without anyone on her side.

Except for Anne.

She squeezed the photo she held in her pocket between her fingers for some comfort. The more Jeanine spoke, the slower time seemed to pass for her, as if every word that came out of her mouth was drawn out as much as possible to increase the anticipation.

But hers was just a perception; a few seconds later, they began calling out the names of the teenagers. One by one, they stepped forward to choose their future.

The list was in alphabetical order, so it wouldn't be long before her turn came, but in the meantime, she watched the kids she had grown up with, gone to school with, change their destiny.

Her fingertips tingled with excitement, the realization of truly being there hitting her all at once. It was her moment, her chance to finally have a good life.

"Maxim Anderson," a boy from the Abnegation section stood up, ran his hand through his curly red hair, and adjusted his glasses. He was short, but the way he walked exuded authority and confidence.

He took the dagger that Marcus Eaton, representing the government within the city, offered. Maxim took it with confidence, making a cut perhaps deeper than necessary on the palm of his hand, then clasped his hand over the bowl containing the burning coals.

Dauntless.

The boys from the Dauntless faction cheered, and Maxim raised his arms in the air, joining in their jubilation. He was welcomed with warm hugs and pats on the back, taking a seat in the front row where a Dauntless boy offered him a place.

"Chloe Andrew."

Ellie's head snapped towards the row in front of her, where Chloe Andrew, one of the most insolent girls in her faction, descended the stairs with confident steps until she reached the pedestals where the five bowls were placed.

Surprisingly, she also chose Dauntless, leaving behind a shattered family. Ellie watched her own family, seated in front of her, despairing; her little sister tried to hold back tears while her mother stroked her head.

Her father, on the other hand, remained motionless, a stoic expression as he observed his daughter from afar. Ex daughter now.

Ellie's attention returned once again to Anne, who was still nervously biting her cuticles, anxiety consuming her from within.

Several more names were called, and many of them remained loyal to their original faction, returning to their families who embraced them happily. Ellie felt a pang of jealousy watching the parents hold their children close, kissing them, knowing they could grow old with them.

"Anne Bishop." Anne's name was called, and the trembling girl made her way to stand in front of the five bowls. She took the dagger with shaking hands and very slowly made a small cut to draw blood, but she remained still, contemplating her choice.

Ellie tried to get a better view of the scene, to understand what Anne was undecided about, but she was too far away to see clearly; it took her much longer than the other kids, and she could hear the whispers of the confused people around her. She was confused too, what was Anne waiting for?

Then, all of a sudden, Anne reached out and let drops of blood fall into the bowl containing the soil.

"Amity!" declared Marcus Eaton, smiling at the crowd, but Ellie's attention was fixed on her best friend, on how her expression was anything but happy, on how she tried to hide her tears while keeping her gaze low.

"Ellie Black."

It took her a second to realize that her name had been called, rising with great calm as if at any moment the ground would give way beneath her. She felt all eyes on her as she descended one step at a time, placing one foot cautiously in front of the other.

Was it really her moment?

She nodded politely to Jeanine Matthews, who returned it with a polite smile, watching her closely as she went to retrieve the dagger from Marcus Eaton.

Jeanine was curious; she knew Ellie's father, and over the years, she also got to know her mother. They were extraordinary people, in her opinion, wasted in Candor. They had minds worth millions of dollars, the kind of people who could change your life.

Both born Erudite, they had chosen to change factions at the age of sixteen. Jeanine had heard about Ellie Black, a girl in Candor who kept to herself too much and always seemed to get into trouble.

Ellie took the dagger Marcus offered, gripping the handle between her fingers. She observed it, pressing it against the palm of her hand, but didn't cut herself. She remembered her simulation from the day before.

What would have happened if she had plunged the blade into her palm? Would it have hurt?

To her, it felt like she stood in front of the bowls with the dagger in her hand for hours, but she knew only a few seconds had passed. She positioned herself in front of the Dauntless bowl and with a swift motion, she cut her palm, letting the blood drip onto the burning coals.

"Dauntless!" Marcus shouted, causing the crowd of Dauntless to erupt once again in cheers, inviting her to join them.

She felt like she was inside a bubble, the cheers of her new faction muffled and her vision blurred. She had done it, she had changed her life.

Instinctively, she glanced towards the Amity faction and locked eyes with Anne, who was already looking at her. Anne's eyes were now red, the tears gone.

Ellie tentatively smiled at her, and to her great surprise, Anne responded with a smile and a thumbs-up, happy for her. They were separated forever now, but their memories would be cherished in their hearts.

She paid little attention to the kids who came after her, only a few caught her eye, like Patrick Sainz and Connor Kennedy, two boys from her own faction. Chloe's best friends.

She had hoped to have no connection with her old faction, but apparently, she would have to settle for living with their breath on her neck. She felt their glances from time to time, judging her as they always had.

Ellie pressed her thumb against the cut on her palm, which sent a rather pleasant shock through her body, distracting her from both her former and new companions at the same time.

Why? Couldn't they mind their own damn business elsewhere?

The rest of the Ceremony passed quickly, Ellie staring into the void in front of her, slightly shaken by what had just happened. She couldn't believe she had managed to change factions, to leave behind that place that wasn't so much a home; it was a dream come true.

She counted ten transfers; most of them came from Erudite, but an equal number of Dauntless also joined other factions, although the quantity was minimal compared to the other factions.

Many of the kids remained in Dauntless, returning to their seats with enthusiasm, greeted with hugs and cheers. It was like a big family; they all seemed so warm.

Soon the end of the Ceremony arrived, and all the factions began to rise and head towards the exit, but the Dauntless were different from all the others. They didn't take the elevator but started running.

The transfers, confused, began to run after them. They ran through the entire city, and Ellie had to admit that, despite the sharp pain in her side, she felt free running amidst all those people.

She distanced herself a bit from the group of transfers, ignoring the pain and picking up her pace to reach the front of the group, but the Dauntless stopped under the scaffolding that supported the train tracks.

Soon the end of the Ceremony arrived, and all the factions began to rise and head towards the exit, but the Dauntless were different from all the others. They didn't take the elevator but started running.

The transfers, confused, began to run after them. They ran through the entire city, and Ellie had to admit that, despite the sharp pain in her side, she felt free running amidst all those people.

She distanced herself a bit from the group of transfers, ignoring the pain and picking up her pace to reach the front of the group, but the Dauntless stopped under the scaffolding that supported the train tracks.

Slowly, the Dauntless began to climb up it. Ellie stood there, mouth agape, but it didn't take her long to do the same. She had loved climbing since she was a child, and this was her moment.

With innate skill, she managed to reach the top of the railway before any other transfer, even before the Dauntless kids. At the top, she looked down at the mass of black-clad figures below her, feeling powerful, like a ruler looking down on her subjects.

It was an incredible sensation, something she had never felt before and wanted to keep experiencing.

Someone approached her from behind, giving her a pat on the shoulder, startling her as she thought someone was trying to push her off. She recoiled, moving away from the edge to see who had caused this little scare.

"Whoa, didn't mean to startle you, kid! I'm Lauren, nice to meet you," the woman extended her hand, perhaps a few years older than Ellie, with long brown hair and an eyebrow piercing. "I just wanted to congratulate you; I've never seen a transfer move that fast."

Ellie took her hand and shook it, embarrassed by how visibly she trembled from the adrenaline. It wasn't the first time she had climbed somewhere or ran until she felt sick; she had done several illegal explorations in the abandoned parts of the city.

"Thank you."

"Good luck with initiation; it's tough. Don't hesitate to ask for help if you struggle with anything, okay?"

Ellie nodded to Lauren, who smiled before heading towards the edge to help the remaining initiates climb onto the platform. It was reassuring to know they weren't as hostile as her mother had made them out to be. So far, she had only met one Dauntless, but if they were all like that, she considered herself lucky.

It was enough to see how they reacted when someone joined their faction—the shouts of joy and the compliments for choosing them showed how united they were as a faction. She liked that.

Ellie gazed at the scenery as they waited for the train. The sky was becoming overcast again, and many hoped it wouldn't start raining, making the journey to the Dauntless faction more difficult.

From a distance, the noise of the train caught the attention of most of the kids there, and they approached the tracks to wait for the train to stop and board it. However, a voice at the head of the line yelled out.

"Jump on!"

The Dauntless started running towards the end of the platform, confusing not only Ellie but also all the other initiates. "What do you mean, jump on?"

Ellie turned, noticing a short girl with tanned skin glancing between her and the train approaching at high speed. She shrugged at her, not knowing why she would know what they were supposed to do.

Both turned to look at the rest of the group, also standing still trying to figure out what to do. The train zoomed past their eyes, and Ellie took only a few seconds to understand what they meant by "jump on."

She started running towards a carriage that seemed to be less crowded and with all her might, she jumped, grabbing onto the handle protruding from the open door. It was challenging to get into the carriage; the force of the wind was too strong, and she was too weak.

Gritting her teeth, she threw herself into the carriage, trying to maintain balance to avoid falling in front of everyone. She was relieved to see that there were indeed few people inside, more children of Dauntless than others from different factions.

Ellie took a seat in a corner of the carriage, away from everyone else. One thing she feared was not making friends; she saw how everyone was already in little groups—the Dauntless kids stuck together, as did those from the same faction, leaving Ellie in her own little corner.

She remained alone throughout the journey, watching the city's ruined landscape through the window. The Dauntless faction was quite far from the center; their structures began in old buildings and sprawled underground in rooms resembling caves.

Noticing one of the empty door, she approached it, making sure to hold onto the handle tightly to avoid slipping. The air crashed against her face, disheveling her carefully tied chignon.

Ellie felt cold, the rain-filled air filling her lungs as she took a deep breath to savor the taste of freedom. She tried to look back, to see if she could spot her old home, and to her surprise, she could see the towering skyscraper where she had grown up.

Even from afar, it was imposing, and she thanked God that she had escaped from that place.

She wondered what her mother's reaction would be upon learning that her only daughter, her torment, had finally left. Would she rejoice? Would she realize she was alone in the world?

Perhaps she would finally realize that she was the problem, not Ellie.

"They're jumping!" exclaimed a boy dressed in blue, and Ellie turned again, tearing her gaze away from the city to see what was happening in front of her. But when she tried to get back into the carriage, she caught sight, out of the corner of her eye, of someone jumping off the train.

Caught off guard, she turned back abruptly, noticing how, indeed, the initiates were jumping off the moving train.

"These people are crazy."

"But there's a gap between us and the roof!"

Ellie heard the boys around her discussing the choice of jumping from a moving train; some were complaining, some were on the verge of tears, and finally, some were jumping without a second thought.

It seemed like the wisest choice—to not overthink it—otherwise, she could calculate all the things that could go wrong. She leaned slightly over the edge to check the distance to the roof; her breath caught in her throat when she saw the gap and especially the free fall of at least twenty to thirty meters if she missed the ledge.

She took a deep breath and entered the carriage to build up her momentum. Her heart was pounding as she began to run towards the exit, launching herself out of the train. She fell to the ground, and when her body touched the gravel on the roof, she was able to breathe again. She hadn't realized she had been holding her breath while jumping.

She was surprised to find herself uninjured in the fall, only a few scratches and her once white clothes now not so white anymore. She pulled herself up, trying to straighten up to look somewhat presentable, loosening her now half-undone chignon.

Bodies continued to fall behind her onto the gravel, making unpleasant sounds, but Ellie headed towards the rest of the group, who seemed to be watching someone.

It didn't take her long to understand what or who they were observing—there was a man on the edge of the ledge, watching them with a stoic expression. He was intimidating just to look at, with an authoritative and threatening demeanor; his well-built physique gave the impression of someone who could break your back with two hands.

Ellie made her way through the bodies to get to the front row, or at least to see the situation more clearly.

In front of the ledge, there were several members of the Dauntless, including Lauren and a man of color who watched them with an almost annoyed expression. He observed each one of them, moving his head from side to side, pausing for a few extra seconds on the red and gray-clad individuals.

A wry smile played on his face.

They remained silent for a few minutes, the man walking on the ledge seemed to be challenging the ledge itself to throw him off. He wasn't afraid of falling; he walked on it as if it were a two-lane road.

He exuded confidence, authority, and danger.

Suddenly, he looked up to observe them. Seeing that they were all there, he stopped, crossed his arms over his chest, and began to speak.

"Listen, initiates. Don't think you're Dauntless just because you've simply jumped off a moving train, or worse, because you've chosen us," his tone matched his appearance: authoritative, cold, aggressive.

"During these months, you will have to prove yourselves worthy, continue to push your body and your fears to the limit. There's no place for weaklings."

Ellie kept her gaze on the man on the ledge even as the man in front of her began to speak. "My name is Max, I'm the representative of this faction. He is Eric," he indicated the man whom Ellie couldn't take her eyes off of, "and she is Lauren. They are two of the four leaders of this faction, including myself."

Lauren smiled at the initiates, winking at Ellie when she noticed her watching. Ellie quickly looked away, not wanting to give the impression of having favorites for any strange reason.

"Now listen to me," Eric began speaking, capturing everyone's attention, his voice rather loud. "There's no room for weaknesses here, so if you want to be part of the initiation, you have to jump."

He gestured behind him, and his statement sparked confusion among the boys standing at his feet. A smirk almost malevolent appeared on his face as he observed all those confused, frightened, and certainly hesitant boys about jumping into the void.

His expression turned serious again. "If you don't do it, you're out. The choice is yours."

"What?!" exclaimed a boy from Erudite among the crowd.

"What's down there? Water?" a Dauntless asked, and that reassured Ellie; apparently, even the children of Dauntless were unaware of how the initiation unfolded.

"Just jump and find out," Eric's tone continued to be one of mockery, as if he enjoyed seeing the fear in their eyes.

"Do you think it's a trick?" someone whispered behind her.

"No, I'm jumping."

Ellie turned to see the Abnegation boy make his way through her and another Dauntless to reach the edge, leaning a bit to try to see what was at the bottom, but he saw nothing.

She glanced back, and the girl who had spoken to her on the platform cheered for him, earning several dirty looks from the other initiates.

Maxim, if she remembered correctly, climbed onto the ledge, and the difference in height and size was almost comical; Eric was at least twenty centimeters taller and definitely twice as bulky as him.

"Yoloo!" he shouted, throwing himself off, and everyone held their breath, rushing to the edge to see if the boy had survived. "YESSS!"

His joyful scream echoed within the four walls, and some of the boys cheered, the tension slowly dissipating as they realized that indeed they wouldn't die if they jumped below.

But despite that, when it was someone else's turn, no one stepped forward. The three leaders looked at each other, each one more annoyed than the other.

"We don't have all day, initiates," Eric was even more intimidating when he had a serious expression. His eyes scanned each initiate until they stopped at Ellie. "You, jump."

Ellie didn't immediately realize he was referring to her until the Abnegation girl from before gave her a small push. She walked towards the ledge and climbed up without looking at what was below. She knew she wouldn't see anything, and that would stop her.

Most likely, Eric was about to say something, make an unpleasant comment to make her jump, but Ellie let herself fall into the void, closing her eyes. Her breath caught in her throat, and it felt like she was falling for hours, as if there was no end.

But at some point, her back came into contact with something soft that molded under her weight, causing her to bounce in the air a few times. A net.

A freaking net at the bottom of a freaking hole, seriously?

"Yeah, I thought the same thing the first time," a masculine voice distracted her from her thoughts, and she might have realized she was thinking out loud. Someone moved the net, and she rolled onto her back until she reached the edge of the net where a tall, muscular boy gave her a quick smile. "What's your name? You can choose to change it, but you can't do it later."

Michelle thought for a few seconds, looking into the eyes of the boy who had spoken to her, his intense blue eyes locking with hers.

"Michelle."

"Second to jump, Michelle!" he shouted to a group of people behind him.

Michelle, now going by the name she had chosen, descended with as much grace as possible, failing miserably due to her legs not holding her up properly. The boy quickly moved to support her and help her down the steps, making sure she didn't fall once he let go.

Her whole body was tingling, the ground seeming to have disappeared beneath her. She stood frozen in the spot where he had left her, too frightened to take a step forward for fear of falling.

To her left, Michelle saw Maxim talking to a man dressed entirely in black covered in tattoos, who definitely wasn't one of the initiates. Meanwhile, to her right, her eyes fell on a particular person.

She didn't recognize her immediately; she had their back turned to her, but something about her felt familiar. They were engaged in animated conversation with other Dauntless, and as she shook her head, her hair shifted, revealing a tattoo at the base of her neck.

Tori.

She finally recognized the tattoo, a falcon. Cute.

Michelle noticed several members of the Dauntless below observing their arrival, and she wondered why. Why would anyone waste their time watching kids fall onto a net?

"I see you made the right choice," a voice she immediately recognized spoke from behind her. Michelle turned to see Tori, a more relaxed expression on her face, almost... proud?

"Let's hope so."

"You know, I've already told you how unusual you are for a Candor, but I have to say it again because believe me, I've never seen someone so quiet," Tori remarked.

Michelle looked at her with a blank, confused expression. "Is that a compliment?"

"Mh, yeah, take it as one. Candors are usually irritating, talk too much," her tone was friendly, and despite trying to make conversation, Michelle noticed, thanks to her body language, how reserved she was.

Tori smiled gently, but kept her distance, her arms crossed over her chest.

Noticing how Michelle's silence had remained intact since she first saw her the day before, she decided to leave, apologizing and saying she had to go back to her colleagues.

Michelle returned to where the few initiates who had dared to jump were gathered. Out of twenty-two initiates, only eight had jumped so far. She decided to sit on the ground where another girl was already sitting, her hair scattered and her face flushed.

"I never want to do that again," the girl next to her said, panting. "It was horrible."

Sunny turned to Michelle, her green eyes standing out thanks to the fluorescent lights below. "I haven't introduced myself, I'm Sunny."

"Michelle."

They fell silent, and Michelle broke eye contact when she heard someone shout, followed by cursing when they touched the net. Fortunately, Sunny didn't try to insist on talking to her, enjoying the cold that the stone walls provided.

They didn't know how much time had passed, perhaps a good half hour before almost all the initiates managed to jump.

When the last initiate, Connor, jumped from the roof and joined Chloe in a corner of the room, the man who had taken the trouble to help them down from the net introduced himself.

"I'm Four. Some of you may already know me, others not. But here, in this room, you're all starting from the same point. None of you knows what the future holds, not even the children of the Dauntless."

Behind him, Max, Lauren, and the other Intrepid who had been on the roof with them descended. Lauren took her place in front of the exit, and Four nodded to her, while the other two left.

Four was about to start speaking again when another figure descended, landing rather ostentatiously on the net, drawing attention to himself. Eric climbed down from the net, whispering something into Four's ear as he passed by, causing the latter to stiffen.

Eric walked away, smiling, but it was clear that his intent was to unsettle Four, and unfortunately, he succeeded.

"Lauren will train the children of the Dauntless, while you, transfers, will be with me. Clear?" His tone of voice was sterner now.

"Clear," the Initiates replied in unison.

"Good. The children of the Dauntless can follow Lauren to their dormitories; I don't think you need a tour. As for you, follow me." Four began to walk down a narrow corridor, and the Initiates followed him. "I usually work in the control room, but for these months, I've been asked to be your trainer."

They walked in silence through dark corridors, illuminated only by occasional neon lamps; Michelle didn't realize she had someone next to her until she felt her shoulder bump against someone else's.

"Oh, sorry." When she turned, she saw the girl from earlier beside her, Sunny. She had long, almost black, brown hair, olive skin, and well-defined features.

"No worries," Michelle replied, continuing to walk, but it seemed like the new girl wanted to keep talking.

"Are you not friends with the other three Candors?" asked curiously, keeping her gaze ahead.

"No."

Sunny turned to look at her, feeling the blunt response, and decided it was best to leave her alone for the moment. But she wouldn't stop trying to talk to her. Michelle seemed like an interesting person, in her opinion.

The group abruptly stopped, and Michelle tried to figure out the reason. "This is the Pit," Four said. "You'll grow fond of it over time. It's a place where friends gather to celebrate, drink, and fight."

Four opened two doors, leaving Michelle and Sunny in awe at the sight of the Pit; it was a vast place carved into the rock, with Michelle unable to see the end of it due to its length. Along the walls, passages were carved to access different levels where various shops were located.

"I didn't think we'd descended this far," remarked Sunny beside her, and Michelle couldn't help but agree.

They had descended several meters, surely below the level where the buildings were constructed. The ceiling was made of glass panels, allowing in the little natural light available that day due to the bad weather.

One thing that surprised her was the lack of safety features on the stairs, corridors, and pretty much everything overlooking the Pit; there were no handrails to hold onto or anything to prevent someone from slipping below.

Michelle looked around, noting how different this faction was from her own. The Pit was filled with people scattered about, with shouts, conversations, and animated gestures echoing through the air.

"Later, I'll show you to your dormitories, but first, I want to take you somewhere," Four changed direction, leading them down a corridor away from the Pit.

Several whispers started among the group. Michelle tilted her head slightly to listen more closely.

"I haven't seen any adults or elderly people!"

"But did you see how the kids were running up those stairs? I was afraid they would fall!"

"I don't mind," Sunny said beside her. "It's different from what I had at home, very."

"I can say the same," Michelle whispered, confused about where they were going, where Four was taking them. She wasn't alone; everyone began to feel the temperature change and the sound of water rushing violently.

"This is the chasm," Four stopped on a metal walkway without a railing. No one followed him. "The chasm reminds us that there's a thin line between courage and idiocy, that our lives can end in a split second."

"Incredible," Sunny said, leaning slightly over, detaching herself from the railing to get a better look at the bottom of the chasm.

"Jumping from here is a stupid way to end your life; there's no way to survive. It's happened before, and it will happen again. You've been warned."

Four then turned his back on the group to cross the chasm, and the group of initiates followed him cautiously. Michelle heard someone behind her joking about jumping, and another voice admonishing them for joking about such a thing.

They walked through the corridors and returned to the Pit, but from the other side they had entered. They followed Four until they reached two doors, made of metal, were open, revealing several tables occupied by the Dauntless.

"This is the dinning hall where you'll have your meals. You're free for now. I'll come get you when you're done eating to show you the dormitories," Four said.

With that, Four left, leaving the group of initiates to themselves. Michelle looked for an empty spot and headed towards a table in the back before anyone else could take it.

She didn't realize she was being followed by Sunny; it seemed she wouldn't get rid of the girl easily, and she was grateful for it. Maybe she would manage to make a friend.

Sunny and Michelle sat facing each other at the empty table, quietly choosing what to eat. The food was placed in the center of each table, and various groups already seated were engaged in lively conversations."

They began to eat in silence until two more initiates joined them. Michelle recognized the red-haired boy, Maxim, and the girl who was with him and had spoken to her on the platform after the Choosing Ceremony.

"Pleasure, Max," the boy introduced himself before filling his plate with meat and eating as if he had been fasting for months; Michelle gave him a dirty look as she cut into her hamburger.

"Tina," the girl also introduced herself, and Sunny shook her hand, introducing herself in return.

"She's Michelle," Sunny spoke up for her, and Michelle was grateful; she didn't want to talk.

Her life had changed drastically; she found herself in a new faction with new people within hours and needed to assimilate it all. Not that she would have talked more, but that was just an excuse.

"What do you think so far? I find it pretty cool," Tina said, laughing and nudging Max, who smiled at her. "It's so strange, completely different from what we were used to!"

Her enthusiasm was palpable, and Michelle just wished she could stuff her mouth with food to shut her up; her tone of voice was irritating for how she emphasized every word.

"Yeah, I have to admit it feels weird," replied Sunny, taking off her blue jacket.

"I've never eaten meat before, it's delicious!" Max continued to devour the food in front of him like an animal.

"But that's disgusting!" Tina nudged Max, who kept eating with his mouth open. They were annoying, obscene.

Sunny looked at Michelle, confused, almost disgusted by their behavior; they mainly spoke to each other and kept a louder tone than necessary. Michelle shrugged before finishing her meal, her stomach still tight due to the adrenaline coursing through her veins.

Another person sat with them, to Michelle's right. When she glanced to see who it was, she saw the net guy, Four, grabbing a plate nearby. He remained distant, however, leaving several inches between them.

The doors of the hall opened, and silence fell among the Dauntless and initiates. Eric, recognized by Michelle, entered; the silence allowed the echo of his boots on the floor, and as he passed by the tables, many lowered their heads to their plates, trying to ignore him.

"It's scary," Tina whispered, leaning towards them without taking her eyes off the man who had taken a seat with Max, the faction leader, and other Dauntless none of them had ever seen before.

"You should be afraid of him," another voice chimed in, causing Michelle to jump in her seat. "Seems like every conversation we have starts with you getting scared, huh?"

Lauren took a seat to her left. She, too, began to eat.

"Why? Yeah, he looks badass, but does he really have all that power?" Max asked.

"He's one of the leaders, so I'd say yes," Sunny replied, rolling her eyes and resting her chin on her hand. Michelle noticed how she glanced sideways at Four, trying not to be noticed; someone had a crush.

Michelle smiled slightly at the thought, finding it amusing that not even many hours had passed, and her new friend already had her eyes on someone.

"Ah, he's one of the leaders?"

"Are you stupid? He said it when we were on the roof!" Tina's voice was quite irritating.

Lauren cleared her throat. "Be careful, he's not someone to mess with," her tone was serious, the amused expression fading as she spoke to the initiates at the table. "He's dangerous, he has a bad reputation here."

"What has he done to be so feared?" Sunny asked, curious, directing all her attention to the woman in front of her, finally averting her gaze from Four.

"He's a sadist, he enjoys seeing others suffer and uses all the power he has to his advantage," the guy replied without looking anyone in the eye, keeping his gaze fixed on his plate.

"How old is he? He seems young to be a leader."

"Age doesn't matter here," Four replied curtly, taking a sip of water from his glass. "If you're at the top of the rankings, you can become a leader."

"Well, he wasn't at the top, was he?" Lauren retorted, leaning forward on the table to observe her colleague, a smirk on her face.

"Why he's a leader then?" Sunny asked, trying to understand the situation.

"Because I turned down the position," Michelle saw Four's jaw tighten, his posture stiffening slightly. She was curious about the boy next to her; he seemed so distant while talking with them; either he didn't want to be there or the topic wasn't to his liking.

"That was a stupid choice," Michelle said, staring at him. The table fell silent, and Four paused, slowly turning to look at her with an unreadable expression on his face, as if he expected her to continue. But she didn't.

"Excuse me?" Four asked, his voice slightly sharp.

"It was a stupid choice to turn down such a position, don't you think?" Michelle repeated calmly and composedly, as if speaking to a child. Four flashed a vexed smile, caught off guard by her assertion.

He had never seen a Candor so quiet, and for a moment he wondered if it was all a joke and he had taken the clothes of another initiate, but when she spoke, he immediately understood that maybe, after all, she was indeed a Candor.

"What makes you think you can speak to me like that?" Four tried to keep a calm tone as he replied, wanting to make things clear before getting angry.

"It was an observation," Michelle replied without averting her gaze. There was something about Four that intrigued her, but she couldn't quite grasp it yet; was it his indifferent demeanor? Perhaps it was the fact that he seemed not to belong to that faction?

Why had he sat with them?

"If you want to survive in here, you better watch what you say," he finally looked away, feeling like he was having a staring contest with the initiate, and knowing that he would lose. "Behave like that with someone else, and you'll end up at the bottom of the chasm before the first module ends."

He returned to eating in silence. Michelle glanced at the younger leader sitting on the other side of the dinning hall, wondering if he was the one Four was referring to.

"I didn't believe Tori when she told me she had met a Candor with no tongue," the woman smiled at her when she turned to look at her, diverting her gaze from Eric. "But here you are. Though, I'd say you have a sharp tongue rather than no tongue. I like it."

"Don't encourage her, or you know what will happen," Four warned her.

"Oh, come on Four, I don't think she's stupid enough to pick a fight with anyone. Or is she?" Lauren looked at her, expecting a response, but Michelle remained silent.

She had to admit that despite Four being a good-looking guy, he was also quite touchy, at least that was the impression he had given her. She decided to stay quiet for the rest of the dinner, contemplating whether her way of speaking was no longer suitable after changing factions.

She had no problem speaking the truth, sharp-tongued or not, but the fact that Four took her comment so personally made her realize that maybe she should adapt to the situation.

She had to admit that the subtle threat of being thrown down the chasm sent shivers down her spine.

"Let's just say it's better not to beat around the bush with him," Lauren replied, interrupted by Eric's sudden arrival at the table.

Michelle only noticed him when Four shifted slightly due to the nudge, prompting her to look in the direction where Eric was seated. She was surprised to realize she hadn't heard him coming or seen him out of the corner of her eye.

He didn't greet anyone, neither the initiates nor Lauren or Four. He sat down as if he owned the entire place and began talking to Four, who was visibly annoyed and stiff on the bench.

"Don't you introduce me to your new buddies?" he gestured to the three guys in front of them.

"Tina, Max, Sunny, and Michelle," Four replied.

"Oh, two stiffs. We've outdone ourselves this year."

Stiff. Michelle had already heard that derogatory nickname; it was a way Abnegation members were referred to by other factions. It indicated their rigidity, their countless unnecessary rules.

"We'll see how long they last."

Four remained silent, and Michelle took the opportunity to observe the young leader. The first thing that caught her eye was the two tattoos on the sides of his neck, two black stripes peeking out from under the collar of his jacket; he had several piercings: one on his eyebrow, one on his lip, and a couple on his ears.

On the roof, she hadn't noticed a detail that made him even more intimidating; he had two icy blue eyes that accentuated his coldness.

He kept his blonde hair short on the sides and longer on top, slicked back with gel.

He was relatively good-looking, definitely different from Four. From behavior to appearance.

"What a lovely group, two stiffs, a know-it-all, and..." he leaned in to observe Michelle, scrutinizing her closely, "and... a Candor who doesn't speak. Well, Four, you've made some interesting friends."

"Eric..." Lauren intervened, receiving an amused look from the blond.

"What? I just want to chat with our friend here. So, tell me, what have you been up to lately?"

While Michelle was confused, Sunny and the others seemed even more perplexed. They observed the scene in silence, unable to understand why their leader was talking to Four as if they were old friends, when just a few minutes earlier, Four had warned them to be cautious around him.

"It's nothing special, just the usual," Four replied without looking at him.

"Mh, boring. But what can you expect? A stiff will always remain a stiff," he commented before getting up and patting Four on the shoulder.

He left the cafeteria, and Michelle let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.

"Were you a transfert?" Sunny asked, visibly shaken. Michelle could understand why: Four didn't seem like a Dauntless at all, but rather an Abnegation.

"How do you know each other if you're not friends?" Tina asked, curious.

"We went through initiation together two years ago; he was a transfer from Erudite," Four explained.

"What does he have to say about me then?" Sunny asked, annoyed by the unpleasant comment he had made.

"Eric is Eric; don't take his words too seriously, or you'll be the first one to leave here," Lauren reassured her.

Sunny responded again, but Michelle no longer heard the conversation happening around her. She continued to gaze at the door through which the man, or rather boy, had just exited; he didn't just appear two years older than them, he seemed at least five years older.

But as Four had said, age doesn't matter.

She turned to look at the boy to her right, and after a few seconds, feeling his gaze, he turned to look at her in return. They were studying each other.

"Be careful, Michelle. Not speaking could get you into the same trouble as saying too much would," he warned.

With that, he got up, leaving Michelle and the rest of the group to finish their dinner.

He returned half an hour later when most of the Dauntless had retired to their quarters. He led them silently through the faction, navigating through several corridors until they reached a point where several corridors intersected.

From one of the adjacent corridors, Eric appeared and stood next to Four at the front of the line. Speaking wasn't forbidden, but not a word was uttered among the initiates.

The place was rather dark, which made Michelle more alert. Occasionally, a fluorescent lamp attached to the wall would intermittently illuminate the corridor, but other than that, they were engulfed in darkness.

Sunny, beside her, cursed several times, stumbling over the uneven ground. She wasn't the only one; Tina, who was behind them along with Max, stumbled once, clutching onto Michelle to prevent herself from falling.

To say that Michelle just wanted to go to sleep was an understatement; she wanted to be alone for at least a few hours.

As they continued walking, she put her hands in her pockets and gripped the photo she had been carrying until that moment. She had heard someone talk about burning all their belongings, clothes, and items they had brought with them.

But she wouldn't allow it; she would safeguard that photo until her death.

She wondered what Anne was doing at that moment, if she was okay. She wished to speak one last time before leaving with the Dauntless; she wanted to make sure there were no issues between them after the previous evening.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Eric, and only then did Michelle realize that Four was no longer with them.

"As you know, I am one of the five leaders of this faction, and since we take your initiation very seriously, I have volunteered to oversee most of your journey," Eric announced.

They had stopped in front of two doors, arranging themselves in a semi-circle to face Eric as he spoke.

"Here are some rules to follow," he paced back and forth in front of the door, making eye contact with all the initiates. "You must be in the training quarters at eight in the morning, and training will last until six in the evening. After that, you can do as you please. You'll have days off between each phase, understood?"

The initiates nodded, and Eric continued speaking. "These are your quarters. You will be trained separately from the residents but will be ranked together."

"What do you mean by ranked?" a voice from the back asked, and Michelle expected a reprimand, but Eric's expression changed to one of amusement, almost sadistic.

"You chose us; now we choose you."

Knowledge pt.1

check out the other parts here!

Summary:

The story begins the same for everyone, on the day of the ceremony, one of the most important for all the kids who take part in it every year, and Michelle will not miss the opportunity to leave behind a faction that she did not feel belonged to her.

On her journey, however, she will encounter someone who will make her initiation feel like hell.

Pairing: Eric Coulter x reader

Word count: 3.3k

"Wake up, or you'll be late," a woman with short bobbed hair entered Ellie's room, opening the blinds to let in the morning rays. She stood, hands on hips, wearing a displeased expression. "What were you up to last night? I heard you come back late, too late."

"I was with Anne," Ellie stretched, trying to awaken her still-sleepy muscles.

"Always up to something, you two," the woman continued to complain as she left Ellie's room, closing the door behind her and yelling for Ellie to get ready for the Test.

"Good morning to you too, Mom," Ellie thought as she rose to begin dressing, opting for a simple white suit with a black turtleneck to wear underneath.

She took a quick shower to fully wake up and paused to look at herself in the mirror. Her long brown hair framed her pale face, caused by the little time she actually spent outdoors during the day; she preferred the night.

She left her hair down that day, the sky covered with dense clouds and the wind blowing strongly as she stepped out of the house, tousling her hair.

As she exited the building, she was greeted by Anne, who approached her with a big smile, jumping onto her and wrapping her arms around Ellie's neck. "Hi, Ellie!"

"Hi, Anne. I see you're in a good mood," despite their conversation from the previous evening, Anne seemed like her usual self, tears replaced by a big smile.

"There's no point in moping, don't you think? And besides, we still have the whole day to spend together," she said, starting to walk, trying to catch up with the rest of the group of Candors.

Ellie adjusted her jacket, feeling chilly. "You're right, this might as well be the last one."

Anne tried not to let what her best friend had just said affect her; the smile was in danger of fading the more she thought about it. Their separation was inevitable, she knew that well, but it didn't hurt any less.

They quickened their pace and finally joined their companions, who were chatting animatedly among themselves, ignoring the two girls nearby and casting glances in their direction.

Neither of them let the comments they overheard about themselves sway them, walking with their heads held high until they reached the building where they would take part in the test.

"Everything will be alright," Ellie whispered into Anne's ear, seeing her agitated; she was nervously biting her cuticles.

"It's just that... Ellie, what if the test says I'm something I don't believe I am?"

Ellie looked at her with a touch of pity; anxiety consumed her from within every time they had an important event, and the Attitude Test was the most crucial day of their lives.

In contrast, she was calm; her hands tingled from the long wait that would lead to The Choosing Ceremony, her only chance for escape.

"You don't have to choose what the test tells you, you know that," she replied, joining the queue with her peers, observing the boys and girls from other factions doing the same.

Anne spoke to her, but if she were honest, she wasn't listening; she had become lost in watching the different groups of youths join their respective lines. It was a beautiful sight to see five distinct lines, neatly separated by five different colors.

Slowly but steadily, the line moved, letting hundreds of boys and girls from all factions into a massive hall with seats for each of them; a woman dressed in blue with a tightly pulled chignon stood in front of a blackboard, her gaze stern as she watched the youths enter.

Once everyone was seated and silence fell over the room, the woman began to speak, explaining the history of their city, the utility of the Attitude Test, and the importance of the Choosing Ceremony. These were crucial for maintaining order within their society.

But Ellie wasn't exactly paying attention; a notebook on her thigh and a small pen in hand, she doodled random lines on the paper; she didn't care to pay attention, she just wanted lunchtime to arrive so they could start with the tests.

That was her only thought for the next few hours, with the woman's voice in the background and Anne beside her continuing to nibble at her cuticles.

A bell signaled the end of the long lesson, prompting the students to split into various small groups for lunchtime. She and Anne took a table apart from the others, away from any other group to spend some uninterrupted time.

"Was the lesson that boring?" Anne asked her, nibbling on a piece of meat, having no appetite.

Ellie shrugged, continuing to eat. "A bit, it's stuff we already know," she said with her mouth full, looking at Anne. "These lessons are pointless."

Anne looked around the lively cafeteria, sighing before pushing away the plate in front of her. "If I eat anymore, I'll vomit."

They fell into silence until five volunteers, each from a different faction, entered the cafeteria to call two students at a time. The redhead began to fidget more, her hands trembling as she watched her peers leave the cafeteria to take the test.

Ellie took her hand, running her thumb over the back of it to try to comfort her. It pained her to see the person closest to her in such a state of anxiety, but alas, Ellie was the last person capable of consoling anyone.

"I can't do this," Anne said, holding her head in her free hand. Her palms were starting to sweat, and Ellie tried to ignore it so as not to make her feel worse; she was disgusted by having her sweaty hand on hers.

The ten students remained inside the rooms for just over five minutes each, some longer than others, and in no time, the second set of students was called.

The cafeteria was now engulfed in silence, each student engrossed in thoughts about their future. Would they leave everything behind just because the test gave them a different result from their original faction?

Almost ten minutes later, the volunteers emerged again.

"For the Candor, Anne Bishop and Ellie Black," the Candor called before returning to the corridor from which he had come, expecting the girls to follow him.

With great calm, they got up, leaving the cafeteria to finally make their way to the rooms where they would take the test. Anne didn't let go of Ellie's hand until they were standing in front of two separate doors.

"Good luck," Ellie whispered to Anne as they entered their respective rooms. The door closed immediately behind her, leaving her alone with a woman dressed entirely in black.

The room was completely covered in mirrors with a chair in the center, the woman was typing something on the computer without showing any sign of having seen Ellie, who stopped to observe her.

She was an Asian woman with long black hair and clothing typical of the Dauntless faction, perhaps the sleek black jacket was too big for her. Ellie noticed a tattoo on the back of her neck but couldn't make out what it was, her hairs was on the way.

The woman turned around, a fairly serene expression on her face. "Nervous?" she asked, smiling at her. "Don't worry, it doesn't hurt."

"No," Ellie replied, still standing.

The woman gestured for her to take a seat in the chair. "Make yourself comfortable, I'll be with you in a second," she said, returning to enter data into the computer.

Ellie observed the room, her image being reflected multiple times, creating a strange optical illusion.

"My name is Tori," the woman said, turning towards her with a reassuring smile and a curious gaze. "I've never seen a Candor so quiet before."

"There's a first time for everything," Ellie replied quickly, irritated by the phrase that had been repeated to her her whole life. She looked ahead, ignoring the glare Tori sent her way.

"Now I'll attach these. They'll allow me to see your choices," Tori said, attaching two suction cups to Ellie's temples. A slight shock passed through Ellie's body. "Drink."

She handed Ellie a small cup containing a slightly blue liquid, its consistency resembling that of water. Perhaps Tori sensed her insecurity and wanted to reassure her that it was harmless, but Ellie took a deep breath before bringing the cup to her lips and swallowing the liquid.

In a few seconds, she felt a strange sensation, like dizziness, before closing her eyes and reopening them; she immediately noticed how the room had changed, the Dauntless woman had disappeared, and the room had widened.

The simulation had begun.

She rose from the chair she had been sitting on to inspect the room and noticed how the door had also changed, but when she reached out to touch one of the mirrors, a voice interrupted her.

"Choose!"

Ellie spun around abruptly, but when she tried to figure out who had spoken, she was met only by her reflection. When she turned back again to touch the mirror, she found two different pedestals in front of her.

One displayed a slice of cheese, while on the other rested a dagger. Ellie immediately reached for the dagger; it would be useful in various situations and objectively much more useful than a simple piece of cheese.

In an instant, the pedestals disappeared, leaving the room empty again.

Ellie observed the dagger in her hands, the cold blade against her palm sending shivers down her spine. What would happen if she even lightly pressed the blade into her palm?

Her thoughts were interrupted by a fierce growl, and a large dog with froth around its mouth began to charge at her; she stood still, waiting for the dog to come close enough to defend herself and, if necessary, attack.

"Oh, a puppy!"

Another voice chimed in, but this time, when Ellie turned, a little girl dressed in white stood behind her. She observed her for a few seconds, completely forgetting about the dog that was about to attack her.

However, at her feet, a whimper caught her attention; a puppy.

She looked around; the fierce dog from before had disappeared, replaced by an adorable puppy. She bent down to pet it, noticing out of the corner of her eye how the little girl was slowly approaching.

She shifted her gaze from the puppy for a second, just in time to see the little girl's happy face contort into an expression of fear. The growl returned, and when she looked back at the dog, she saw how the sweet puppy had turned back into the fierce dog from moments before.

The latter lunged at the little girl, but Ellie stopped it in time by throwing herself onto it and plunging the dagger into the animal's body. She closed her eyes; she didn't like the idea of hurting an animal regardless of its actions.

But she didn't feel the dagger hit anything, and when she opened her eyes, she noticed she wasn't in the room full of mirrors anymore, but rather on a bus, an old man reading the newspaper next to her.

Ellie immediately noticed the image of a man on the front page, with a caption calling him a brutal murderer.

The man reading the newspaper lowered it, eyeing the girl and narrowing his eyes. "Do you know him?" he asked, pointing to the man's face on the front page, his voice trembling.

Ellie had never seen him before, yet there was something familiar about him, like an invisible thread connecting them. She wanted to answer him, to tell him that maybe she had seen him somewhere before, but she stopped herself before a single word escaped her mouth.

She couldn't.

She decided to ignore the man, looking straight ahead and ignoring his pleas.

The man's pleas turned into distant lament, and Ellie closed her eyes, reopening them immediately after. She was back in the initial room, Tori next to her, observing the computer screen.

"The Test gone well" Tori removed the suction cups she had previously placed on Ellie's temples, returning to the computer to input more data. "You've been identified as Dauntless. I hope to see you in a few days."

She turned towards Ellie, smiling and gesturing that she could leave the room.

Ellie didn't linger on the chair any longer than necessary, leaving as soon as she was given the green light. She stood still in the hallway for a few seconds, hoping to encounter Anne, but a volunteer urged her to leave to make room for the next group.

She was ushered out through the back door where various youths from different factions were talking among themselves, some happier than others. She tried to scan the crowd for her best friend but without success; it was as if she had vanished into thin air.

She attempted to wait for her for several minutes, even an hour, but eventually, bored and likely assuming Anne had left without her, she headed home.

During her journey, the sky clouded over and a few drops began to fall, but she didn't seek shelter, too lost in her thoughts.

Dauntless? Could she really be one of them?

Her heart began to beat fast in her chest; she knew she would be leaving her faction, but the idea that the day had finally arrived filled her with a strange anxiety.

The unknown worried her; she was aware of the challenges of initiation among the Dauntless and wondered if she would be able to pass it.

She hurried home as the rain began to intensify, the sky growing darker, and she needed to see Anne, to know how she was and especially what her result had been.

The rules were clear; it was forbidden to reveal the result of the Attitude Test, but the two friends had sworn to tell each other at least.

When she arrived home, she was relieved to notice that her mother was still at work, so she took the opportunity to leave the house again and take the elevator to Anne's floor. In less than five minutes, she stood in front of Anne's apartment door and knocked, patiently waiting for a response.

The door opened shortly after, but it wasn't Anne who greeted her; instead, it was her mother. Her expression changed, a genuine smile appeared on her face. "Oh, hi Ellie! How are you, dear? Come in!"

The woman made space for her to enter. "Good morning, Mrs. Bishop. I'm fine, thank you. And you?"

"I'm good, dear. How did the test go?" Mrs. Bishop gave her a warm hug, a small part of her old faction never left her.

"Good, I'm happy with the result. Have you seen Anne?"

The woman's expression darkened, the smile fading. "Uh, she's in her room. I don't think she's happy with the result. She came home early because she wasn't feeling well during the test," she whispered the last part to avoid being heard by her daughter, who had returned home in tears.

Ellie thanked her before heading towards Anne's room. Some of their photos were hung on the door; she stood still, observing them for a while, reliving the countless memories that would be lost in less than twenty-four hours.

Ellie knocked, and shortly after she opened the door, closing it behind her.

Anne was shattered, her face covered in tears as she hugged the pillow and didn't even look at Ellie when she entered. Unsure of what to do, her friend glanced around, feeling slightly uncomfortable seeing her best friend in tears and being unable to help her.

Trying to regain some composure, Anne sat on the bed and wiped away her tears. She made space on the bed for Ellie, who gladly sat down, putting an arm around her shoulders.

And that's when Anne burst into endless tears, burying her face in Ellie's shoulder. Ellie began to stroke her back to provide some comfort.

It's unknown how long they stayed there, with Anne crying and Ellie thinking about the Choosing Ceremony that would take place the next morning. She glanced down to see her friend lying down, using her legs as a pillow.

When Anne managed to calm down, she got up to go to the bathroom, and shortly after, she returned with a still-red face and clothes wrinkled from the position she had been in.

"I guess it didn't go very well, I imagine," Ellie whispered, trying to be as tactful as possible, and she sighed with relief when she saw that Anne sniffed without falling into tears again.

"Amity, my result," Anne said, looking at the floor and continuing to nibble on her cuticles.

Ellie nodded. "Dauntless."

Anne gave her a small smile. "It wasn't hard to figure out."

"I could say the same about you," but Ellie's words seemed to hurt Anne somehow, causing her eyes to well up again

"Anne, are you okay?"

Ellie approached her again, but her friend recoiled when she tried to touch her arm. "Yes, I just felt sick during the test. That's all."

"Are you sure, I—" 

"Can you just go, please?" Anne's tone was sharp, catching Ellie off guard. She had never received such treatment from her best friend before. Sensing her mistake, Anne closed her eyes. "I need to think..."

Ellie left without giving her a chance to finish her sentence, irritated by her behavior. She always tried to do her best for her, to comfort her even if she wasn't capable of it, and the fact that she was being dismissed like that when she was just trying to help bothered her a lot.

She returned home to seclude herself in her room, hoping her mother would leave her alone until dinnertime, but luck was not on her side that day. In fact, when she closed the door behind her, she saw her mother sitting at the table in the living room.

Her gaze lifted as she saw her only daughter entering the house in a hurry, a un-happy expression on her face as she tried to avoid eye contact with her.

"How did the attitude test go? Are you pleased with the result?" Despite her feigned interest in her daughter's affairs, she couldn't deny she was curious about which faction her daughter belonged to.

"Well, goodbye," Ellie replied, slamming her bedroom door shut, bidding her mother farewell for the last time. The next day, she would have to go to work early; many of her colleagues would be absent due to the Choosing Ceremony to accompany their children.

And Ellie would wait until late at night to have dinner, wanting to avoid as much contact with her mother as possible, knowing she would try to get her to reveal which faction she had chosen.

She would find out the next day, from the whispers in the corridors after the Ceremony, but she didn't want to give her mother the satisfaction of knowing before everyone else, especially seeing that content little smile knowing she would be rid of her.

She hated to admit it, only Anne knew what she felt towards her mother; she hated her, hated her with all her being, but despite that, she harbored a love for her that she couldn't even put into words.

She always tried to appear worthy in her mother's eyes, even unintentionally, but it was as if everything she did was wrong and branded her as the family's shame, the black sheep tarnishing her father's name.

And that's how Ellie fell asleep, still fully dressed and with tears in her eyes, thinking about her best friend, about what she would leave behind by choosing the Dauntless the next day.

Perhaps it was her time, her opportunity, and she wouldn't let anyone ruin that day for her.

Not even someone she considered a sister.

Knowledge pt.9

check here for the other parts!

Summary:

The story begins the same for everyone, on the day of the ceremony, one of the most important for all the kids who take part in it every year, and Michelle will not miss the opportunity to leave behind a faction that she did not feel belonged to her.

On her journey, however, she will encounter someone who will make her initiation feel like hell.

Pairing: Eric Coulter x reader

Word Count: 6k

The music from the Pit echoed throughout the faction, ensuring everyone in the area could hear the party beginning.

Michelle sat on her bed, watching her companions prepare. Some were enthusiastic about passing the first module and ready to celebrate, while others stared blankly ahead, aware of the reality they had to face.

She wanted to sympathize with them, to feel sorry seeing them so lost for not passing the initiation and about to become outcasts in a few hours. But Michelle wasn’t good with emotions, especially those of others. She simply watched them, as usual.

Some had already left, running out of the dorms to head to the party that had already started. But she, along with Sunny and Tina, stayed behind, not in a rush to join the others. Michelle wasn’t too thrilled about the party; she wasn’t the type for such things, preferring peace and quiet.

However, as much as she hated to admit it, the two girls had a point. Such a party only happened twice a year, both times celebrating the new Dauntless officials at the end of the two modules.

“What do you think?” Sunny asked, standing in front of her bed and twirling to show off her dress. Michelle smiled slightly and nodded in approval before getting up to change into her outfit.

She felt exposed. The skirt covered almost nothing, barely reaching below her butt, and she was grateful for the built-in shorts that made her feel a bit more comfortable. The top, though flattering, seemed to reveal too much.

She looked at herself in the bathroom mirror, taking in her pale skin and the dark circles under her eyes. Her straight hair fell over her shoulders, partially covering her exposed back.

Her attention shifted from her reflection when Sunny entered the bathroom with a small bag in hand and a mischievous smile. “Now for the makeup! Come here and sit down, I’ll bring some life back to you.”

“Sunny—”

“No, I won’t hear it!” Sunny exclaimed, opening the bag and pulling out makeup. “Tonight, you need to be your best self, and maybe you’ll even find someone,” she sang, and Michelle wondered why the two girls were so insistent on this. Did she really seem that miserable alone?

It didn’t matter to her, not really, just like she didn’t care about her former companions who would disappear from their lives tomorrow. She shouldn’t care, because one thing her friends didn’t know was that, in the end, someone did occupy a part of her thoughts.

In a very deep and isolated part of her mind, a pair of icy blue eyes looked at her with disapproval, repeating the veiled insults he always threw her way. Yet, at the same time, she couldn’t forget those moments when she saw a glimmer of pride and something else she couldn’t decipher.

Lost in her thoughts, she didn't notice Sunny step back to get a better look at her, smiling to herself before calling Tina into the bathroom. “Tada! A new Michelle!”

Tina's eyes widened. “Damn, you're good!” she said, turning to Sunny. “You look amazing, Mich. Now, let's go. The party started two hours ago.”

The two girls headed out of the bathroom after one last check in the mirror, but one of them noticed Michelle still standing there, immobile. “Coming?”

“I’ll meet you at the Pit,” she said quietly, staring at her reflection. Sunny hadn't gone overboard, but she had done enough to highlight her features. Her gaze, now enhanced with mascara, black eyeliner, and eyeshadow, looked harder, emphasizing her light eyes.

Sunny had also applied a dark brown lipstick. The makeup created a stark contrast with her pale skin, and for a moment, Michelle contemplated wiping it all off. She couldn't see herself as normal like this; it didn’t feel like her. But then she thought that maybe, for one night, she could be a little different.

She returned to her bed and sat down, putting on the heels they had picked up that afternoon, checking to make sure she could actually walk in them. Once she felt confident enough in her balance, she sat on the bed again. This time, she lifted the pillow and took out the photo of her and Anne from underneath.

As the weeks passed, the photo was getting more and more worn, with a white stripe now visible in the corner from being folded too many times.

It hadn’t been that long since their last meeting, yet Michelle felt light-years away from her best friend, her sister. She wondered how Anne was doing, what she was doing at that moment, and whether she was living the life she wanted.

Because Michelle, at that moment, was living both her dream and her nightmare simultaneously.

Her heels echoed through the empty hallways, though the sound was quickly drowned out by the music. When Michelle peered into the Pit, she felt her heart race. The place was packed with people, making it impossible to recognize anyone from a distance.

Some were dancing, some playfully fighting, others drinking near the bar, and some simply sitting on a ledge with a drink in hand. She quickly realized that this wasn’t her scene. Yet, just as she turned to retreat back to her bed, she bumped into Tyson.

“Well, look at you! All dressed up, where are you going? You’re not heading to bed already, are you?” he exclaimed, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her forward. “I guess you’re not much of a party lover, huh? Doesn’t seem like your thing, all quiet and mysterious.”

Michelle sidestepped, causing Tyson’s arm to fall back to his side, but she decided to continue walking with him toward the center of the party. She crossed her arms over her chest, continuing to glance around as they started to encounter the first groups of Dauntless.

“No, I wouldn’t say so,” she said, and Tyson miraculously heard her over the noise surrounding them.

“I figured,” he replied, leaning down to speak into her ear. “But trust me, it’s worth it. Their parties here are out of this world.”

When they reached the crowd, Tyson grabbed her arm to pull her forward, ensuring he didn’t lose her among the bodies moving around them. Michelle had to resist making disgusted faces every time a sweaty guy or girl bumped into her by accident.

The music made her heart and the rest of her body tremble as they reached the bar. “What do you want?” Tyson yelled to be heard, and Michelle just shrugged. She had never drunk anything more than a few sips of her mother’s liquor in secret.

Tyson turned to the bar, chatting with one of the bartenders, and they seemed to get lost in conversation. She took the opportunity to scan the crowd for Sunny or even Tina. Her attempts were futile; all she could see was a sea of people dancing and singing to the music.

The place was illuminated by green and red lights moving through the crowd like lasers, and the smell was highly unpleasant—a mix of sweat, alcohol, and perfume. She grimaced when a girl stumbled and nearly fell on her.

She decided to find her friends, spend a few minutes with them, and then retreat, hating the situation she had found herself in. She longed to return to her bubble of silence and solitude, like when she spent her mornings alone in the gym. But her plans were thwarted once again by Tyson, who handed her a pink drink that made her wrinkle her nose. He grabbed her arm again, leading her away from the crowd.

“You’ll like it here more; it’s much quieter,” he said as they distanced themselves from the throngs of people near the bar. The entire Pit was packed, but the area Tyson led her to was surprisingly more isolated, with only a few groups of relatively calmer people chatting animatedly among themselves.

However, when Michelle saw where Tyson was taking her, she felt her heart leap out of her chest. It wasn’t just the sight of Eric, clad in a black shirt that clung almost illegally to the muscles of his chest and biceps, or the jeans that fit his legs all too well. It was more the sight of the girl wrapped around him that made her heart race. 

Michelle recognized her: Mia. The girl who, upon their first meeting, had treated her more rudely than necessary.

Tyson put his arm around her shoulders again, making her walk a bit faster, and this time Michelle didn’t shrug him off. Instead, she took the straw and drank from the glass. Her throat burned, but a sweet taste flooded her mouth.

“Oh, hey guys!” Tyson shouted when they were a few meters away. He detached himself from Michelle to greet his friends with a handshake and a pat on the back, while Michelle stood there, contemplating what to do next.

This wasn't her place; she wanted to leave, especially when Tyson returned and slung his arm around her shoulders to introduce her to the group. "Guys, this here is Michelle! One of the initiates who passed the first module, right? Third place? Second?"

He gave her a slight shake when he saw her usual expressionless face, his smile indicating he was already intoxicated. He turned to his friends, chuckling a bit. "She’s not much of a talker, as you can see."

"You going after the initiates now?" commented a guy who looked a couple of years older than Michelle. He raised an eyebrow, and the guy held up his hands in defense. "If I were him, I would too."

"Shut up, Axl. You’re making yourself look worse," someone retorted.

"Yeah, because you’re just desperate, you idiot," Mia said. The girl clinging to Eric sized Michelle up from head to toe, as if she were a lost child. She detached herself from the young leader and walked over, and despite wearing heels, she remained shorter than Michelle. "We haven't had a chance to introduce ourselves. Michelle, right? I'm Mia. Pleasure to meet you," she said, her voice dripping with venom.

Michelle glanced at the hand Mia offered, then took a sip of her drink, looking Mia directly in the eyes without accepting the handshake. Mia made a face and withdrew her hand. "Not only mute but rude too. Where do you find them lately, Ty?"

A few people in the group snickered while Tyson adjusted his hat and rolled his eyes. "Don't be a bitch, Mia," he said, playfully putting his arm back around Michelle's shoulders. "Not everyone has trouble keeping their mouth shut like you."

Mia huffed and went back to clinging to Eric’s shoulder, who absentmindedly placed his hand on her hip. Michelle tightened her grip on her drink, nerves frayed. The alcohol was already going to her head, and all she wanted was to leave—or maybe smash Mia’s hand.

“Tell your little friend to loosen up a bit. It wouldn’t be such a turn-off having her here,” Mia said.

“Learn to keep your legs closed then,” Tyson shot back, laughing as he released his hold on Michelle and took a seat next to Eric, giving him a friendly slap on the shoulder. “I’m telling you, man, pick them better and a bit less trashy.”

“Fuck you!” Mia shouted, standing up and storming off, giving Michelle a shoulder bump as she disappeared into the crowd. Michelle watched her go, a slight smile playing on her lips at seeing Mia so annoyed by her presence.

Turning back to the remaining group, Michelle took a seat on a nearby ledge, a few steps away from Tyson and Eric. She took another sip of her drink, closing her eyes as the burning sensation once again spread down her throat.

“You shouldn’t be with your friends, initiate?” Eric’s voice cut through her thoughts.

Michelle opened her eyes to find Eric looking at her, his expression a mix of curiosity and mild amusement. She held his gaze for a moment before responding, "They're around here somewhere. I'm just... taking a moment."

Tyson chuckled, shaking his head. “Looks like you’ve got some fight in you after all. I like that.”

Michelle shrugged, taking another sip of her drink. “I just didn’t feel like dealing with anyone tonight.”

"Then leave. I don't think anyone will miss you," Eric’s words cut sharply, and Michelle felt the sting more acutely than usual. The alcohol made her more sensitive, but it was clear that his cruelty went beyond just her emotional state.

"I don’t think you like anything more than torturing me," Michelle retorted. Eric was momentarily taken aback, momentarily lost for words as he tried to suppress his smirk. "See?"

"Watch it, initiate. I won't excuse your insolence just because you're drunk," Eric warned, his voice icy.

"But you’re always complaining when I don’t respond," Michelle shot back, taking another sip of her drink. The argument was cut short as Mia returned, teetering awkwardly on her high heels and draping herself over Eric once more.

Michelle couldn't hide her irritation. She rolled her eyes and glanced at Tyson, who was clearly enjoying the spectacle. “What were you talking about?”

“Nothing,” Eric said, taking a swig from his beer. Mia pouted and forced Eric’s face back towards her with a dramatic gesture. “But if you were talking about something—”

Eric pushed Mia’s hand away with a look that could have cut glass. Michelle saw his jaw tighten and his gaze harden, revealing the cold leader she had come to know. “Don’t flatter yourself, Mia. ‘Nothing’ means nothing.”

His tone brooked no argument, and Mia fell silent, clearly embarrassed by the reprimand. Michelle couldn’t help but speculate about the nature of Mia and Eric’s relationship. Were they a couple? No, she hoped not. Friends with benefits? Probably.

The thought made her stomach churn, a feeling she tried to drown with one last gulp of her drink. Her head spun more fiercely than before, and she frowned at the now-empty glass. Rising abruptly, she steadied herself with a hand on the ledge where she had been sitting.

“Where are you going?” Tyson asked as she stood. Michelle turned her back to the group, raising her glass in a silent farewell before making her way back into the crowd.

Eric’s gaze followed her, lingering on her from head to toe, pausing uncomfortably long on the exposed skin beneath her short skirt. He grudgingly acknowledged that he had never seen her like this—a striking young woman. His eyes were drawn to the tattoo displayed on her exposed back.

Mia shifted beside him, her voice dripping with irritation. “You’ve got to be kidding me!” she exclaimed, clearly perturbed by Eric’s almost hypnotic gaze as Michelle walked away.

The same guy from earlier took a seat next to them, grinning. “I don’t blame him; she’s pretty stunning. If Tyson’s not into her, I might give it a shot.”

Tyson laughed heartily. “Man, there’s nothing between us,” he said, and Eric couldn’t quite explain the unexpected relief that washed over him at hearing that.

Axl quipped, “It doesn’t seem like it. You all seemed so close, I could almost feel the tension between you.”

Tyson shook his head, “No, nothing like that. Michelle just reminds me of my sister, which is why I like having her around. They’re very similar.”

A moment of silence followed this revelation before another guy from the group stepped closer. “So, Eric, what’s the verdict on the girl?”

“What do you want me to say? She’s just a girl,” Eric replied nonchalantly. However, as his friends continued to press him with curious looks, he rolled his eyes and added, “She’s not bad. She’s picking things up quickly and has her own style.”

His tone signaled the end of the discussion, and the conversation shifted to lighter topics, such as who was stronger at arm wrestling between Axl and Tyson.

Meanwhile, Michelle found herself wedged in the midst of a dancing crowd, where people moved as if their lives depended on it. She scanned the crowd, trying to spot Sunny to thank her for encouraging her to come out, but the only familiar face she could find was that of her instructor, Four.

The guy was leaning against the bar, chatting casually with a woman Michelle recognized as Tori. She approached them cautiously, navigating the crowded space carefully. When she reached them, Tori greeted her warmly with a hug.

"How are you finding it here? I heard you passed the first module, and from what I hear, you did great. I'm so proud," Tori said with a bright smile. Michelle returned the gesture with a small smile of her own before turning her attention to Four.

"Have you seen Sunny?" she asked over the music. Four shook his head, glancing around the crowd before shaking it again. Michelle sighed and returned to the bar to order another drink, hoping to get the same one as before despite not knowing its name or what it was.

Fortunately, the bartender handed her the same drink as before. Just as she was about to leave, Four caught her arm, pulling her away from the crowd. Once they had distanced themselves enough, he looked her up and down, his gaze shifting to a worried expression as he glanced back toward the area she had just left.

"What were you doing over there?"

Michelle turned to see what he was referring to and, upon spotting the place she had just been, turned back to him with a shrug. "Tyson brought me there."

“Hmm,” Four said, his tone growing serious. “I can’t tell you what to do, but be careful with people like that. They’re not the kind you want to be around, especially Eric.” His concern was evident, and Michelle tried to take his words to heart, but the alcohol clouded her judgment.

Without saying a word, she turned and left him alone, heading back to the spot she had been at earlier. Her head spun, and she felt as though she were walking through a void. Yet, with each step, Four's words seemed to come to life, growing more real.

She stopped at a distance to observe the group she had just left, focusing specifically on Eric. Always so serious, so cynical, yet Michelle couldn't help but feel drawn to him. Maybe it was just a foolish sexual attraction… but if that were the case, why did it bother her so much that his arm was casually draped around Mia's waist?

Michelle took a deep breath, her senses slowly returning to her. She decided to take a different path, heeding Four's advice, someone who, unlike the others, was reliable.

As she turned on her heels and disappeared into one of the corridors, she didn't notice a pair of ice-cold eyes tracking her every movement, rising to follow her.

That night, Michelle retired early from the party. She didn't seek out her friends or drink too much—just enough to have her mind clouded. Dressed in pajamas, she found herself sitting on the edge the chasm.

The cold air and the icy droplets made her shiver in the simple shirt she wore, paired with short shorts that provided little protection from the splashes rising from below.

The drink, still half-full, rested beside her, and the small notebook and pencil she had retrieved from her room lay across her lap as she let herself be rocked by the silence, broken only by the sound of the water below.

She leaned forward slightly to take a look, shivering at the sight of the water crashing so aggressively against the rock walls, causing the water level to rise a few inches below her feet with each collision.

She remembered what Four had said about how people, so foolish, would throw themselves down there, meeting certain death. A current like that would carry away even the strongest, and in a twisted sense, Michelle was curious—curious to see what a body would become if it fell into that abyss.

Taking a sip from her drink with one hand and drawing random lines on a page with the other, mimicking the movement of the waves, she didn't notice the steps approaching from behind, immersed in her small bubble of solitude.

After a few minutes, however, Michelle felt a weight on her shoulders, the presence of someone sneaking into her blind spots. When she stopped, ready to react and fully aware of her vulnerable position, she turned around, hiding her surprise at seeing the young leader leaning against the stone wall, arms crossed over his chest, wearing an expression of boredom.

It was probably a bad idea—no, it was definitely a bad idea—but Michelle turned her attention back to her notebook, ignoring him as if nothing had happened. However, this did not sit well with Eric, who pushed himself off the wall to stand directly behind her.

Michelle paused her drawing again, lifting her gaze when she felt Eric approach. Their eyes met, and she couldn’t help but feel a slight flush coloring her cheeks. “What?”

She asked in a whisper.

“People told me you were headed for the chasm,” Eric said, his tone as cold as ever. “I need to make sure no initiate decides to throw themselves off, or I’ll be the one dealing with it later. So get up and go back to your dorm.”

Michelle, however, ignored him and continued sketching as if he weren’t there. She didn’t consider that with a simple push, Eric could have made her disappear without anyone ever knowing, relieving himself of a nuisance.

“I don’t have time to waste, initiate. Get up,” he said more forcefully. Michelle shook her head, and she felt a shiver as she heard him sigh in frustration behind her. “Why do you have to be so difficult? Just do what I say!”

His voice echoed ominously in the void, and Michelle, struck by the severity of his tone, realized just how precarious her situation was. But what she didn’t expect, when she sensed him moving again, was to see him sit down next to her on the edge of the chasm.

For a moment, Michelle thought maybe he felt that strange attraction between them. However, she didn’t know that his presence was far from a visit of pleasure—he would have denied it to his dying day.

In truth, Eric didn’t want to be there. He would have preferred to be in his apartment with one of his casual flings or with his friends, drinking. Instead, he received a message from Jeanine Matthews instructing him to check on Michelle after the cameras showed her near the chasm.

Eric was filled with unanswered questions and doubts about why, since the initiation began, Jeanine seemed so intent on keeping tabs on the girl, making sure she was safe. Who was Michelle? Why was she so important?

But a small part of him was personally curious to uncover the girl’s secrets. His Scholastic habits hadn’t faded, and his hunger for knowledge consumed him from within whenever Michelle didn’t answer him, ignored him, or gave him answers that didn’t quench his curiosity.

At that moment, the silence was gnawing at him, and the sound of the pencil on paper was driving him mad. “Are you planning to jump? You’d be doing everyone a favor.”

“Do you want to push me?” Michelle’s immediate response surprised him. He pretended to consider it for a moment before replying.

“You’re tempting me to do it, yes.”

Without lifting her eyes from her notebook or stopping her sketching, she responded flatly, “Go ahead.”

Eric studied her for a moment, bewildered by how different she seemed from the girl he had observed over the past months. He glanced at the nearly empty glass beside her, attributing her response to the influence of alcohol. The glass didn’t stay nearly empty for long, as he took the last sip.

This caught Michelle’s attention. Finally, she turned to look at him with narrowed eyes. “That was mine.”

Even Eric had to admit that he was influenced by alcohol, though not to the extent Michelle was at that moment. But it was enough to make him want to push her buttons to provoke a reaction. Deciding to make a daring move, he grabbed the notebook from her hands, bracing for an attack. Instead, she remained impassive beside him.

He flipped through the pages casually, though he couldn’t hide the fascination in his eyes as he looked at her drawings. He hated to admit how captivated he was by what he saw on those pages, by what the girl beside him had created.

Michelle watched him closely, one of the rare times she could admire him from so near. It was perhaps a bad thing—she still couldn't explain why, despite her hatred for him, she found herself drawn to him. The problem was that Michelle wasn’t just physically attracted to the guy; she wanted to get to know him, to forge a connection between the two of them. It was probably masochistic of her to inflict such pain on herself.

“It’s rude to stare,” Eric said, his eyes still fixed on the notebook as he continued flipping through the pages until he found the drawing that resembled the tattoo on his back. He saw Michelle curl up, pulling her knees to her chest and resting her chin on them, wrapping her arms around herself.

He lifted the notebook to show her. “Is this the one you have tattooed?” he asked. Michelle shrugged nonchalantly, and Eric felt his blood boil. Gritting his teeth, he spoke sharply, “Just answer me, don’t make me angry, girl. Yes or no.”

Michelle rolled her eyes, a gesture Eric didn’t appreciate. Before he could snarl at her, she replied, “Yes, that’s it.”

“See? Not so hard to answer, is it, Initiate?” He returned to studying the drawings, imagining a similar one on himself. He had long wanted a tattoo on his arms, which seemed to grow more bare with each passing day.

But could he ask her to do one for him? If he asked, it would feel more like a command, an order, but on the other hand, he knew he couldn’t force her.

“It’s always been my way of escaping reality,” Michelle said suddenly. “I used to draw on the walls of my room; my mom was furious. I remember it like it was yesterday…” She laughed wistfully, shaking her head slightly.

Eric wanted to tell her that he didn’t care about her family or the little things she was sharing, but this was the first time he had heard her speak so much, and he found himself captivated by her words.

Her voice was both delicate and strong at the same time; even in her whispers, he could hear the confidence behind her words. He hated himself for it, feeling weak for having such thoughts about an initiate, about anyone. Yet, he couldn’t tear his gaze away from her, from the way her lips moved with each word.

“She never laid a hand on me, I swear, but her words hurt more than a punch,” Michelle said. At this, Eric snorted, and Michelle turned to look at him with an arched eyebrow. “It’s true, Eric. Words are the sharpest blade you can wield, but as a Dauntless-born, I don’t think you can understand that.”

Eric felt both deeply insulted and strangely flattered by her comment, both because it suggested that he had always lived within the confines of the walls and the black clothing, and because it seemed to mock him for it.

He wanted to come up with a cutting remark to prove he knew what he was talking about, but nothing came out of his mouth. What he did manage to say was, “I wasn’t born Dauntless.”

Michelle stared at him, unmoving. “I don’t believe you.”

“Believe what you want, initiate. I went through initiation two years ago; I was born Erudite,” he said, feeling perplexed when Michelle tried to suppress a smile. His mood shifted, he wasn’t sure how, but he was no longer as irritated by Michelle’s demeanor as he had been moments before.

The alcohol was clearly taking effect, he thought.

“What’s going on?” he asked when she remained silent.

“I would have never guessed. You seem born for this life, for all of this.”

“That’s why I left, don’t you think? I could say the same about you. You didn’t seem like a Candor so far; now you’re talking too much,” Eric remarked, and Michelle’s smile faded, the playful atmosphere between them turning neutral again.

Michelle averted her gaze and looked down at the chasm beneath them.

Eric furrowed his brow, confused by the sudden shift in her mood. He didn’t understand why she had changed so quickly when she was the one who had first insulted him, calling him stupid. “Did the cat steal your tongue again, initiate? You know, it’s irritating when you don’t speak.”

“A not-so-subtle way of saying you like my voice?” Michelle asked, trying to suppress a foolish smile.

“No, it’s a way of saying it’s disrespectful not to respond to a superior when they speak to you. Very rude and immature.”

“I do respond. I just don’t need words to do it.”

At that moment, Eric set the notebook down and grabbed Michelle by the wrist, standing up abruptly. The jolt of his grip sent an electric shock down her body; she stood up with him, bewildered. But what confused her even more was the way he tightened his hold on her wrist.

In an instant, she found herself dangling over the edge of the chasm, Eric’s grip the only thing preventing her from falling.

Panic surged through her system.

She knew, she knew it all along—Eric hadn’t come to have a friendly chat. He hadn’t complimented her drawings, however subtly, out of kindness. He hadn’t joked with her, showing he wasn’t just the asshole everyone thought he was. He hadn’t started seeing her differently.

No.

He had done exactly what Michelle had feared, what she had imagined but was too stupid to notice.

She stared at him, seeing the glint in his eyes, that sadistic gleam that was so inherent to his nature. How stupid she felt for even thinking she had made the young leader smile, when she was utterly, damnably foolish.

Foolish, foolish, foolish!

“Don’t you want to beg me to pull you up?” he asked with mock amusement, as if he were teasing her. A part of Michelle wanted to comply, especially feeling his grip slipping ever so slowly.

But if Eric wanted to play this sadistic game, Michelle would change the rules to win.

She met his gaze, noting that sadistic smile—damn, it had its own kind of charm—and, trying to mask all her emotions, she replied.

“Let me go,” Michelle said, her voice firm despite the fear. Eric’s expression shifted instantly, becoming serious, the same one he wore every day.

“Let me go if you have the guts,” Michelle growled, clinging to a ledge with her feet as she swung.

Eric lurched forward, tightening his grip on Michelle as she pushed with her feet to force him to release her. It was a reckless move; for all she knew, Eric might have let her fall. But a dark part of her, the one that thrived on risk, knew the blonde was just toying with her.

And she was right.

“What the hell are you doing?” Eric roared, regaining his footing and hauling her up. He set her down on the platform, holding her against the wall with an intense grip. “What the hell is going through your head? Were you trying to kill us both?”

Eric was furious, his shouts echoing off the walls. It was clear anyone in the nearby corridors could hear. But Michelle, fueled by adrenaline and alcohol, couldn’t think clearly. As Eric’s rage crashed over her, she reveled in the thrill of having finally figured out how to play the game against him.

Eric was cruel, heartless, sadistic—but he wasn’t stupid. Far from it. He knew the initiates were his responsibility.

What Michelle didn’t realize was that Eric’s heart was pounding wildly, threatening to burst from his chest as the seconds ticked by. The moment he understood what she was doing, the world seemed to freeze. He blamed the orders, the looming threat from Jeanine if she discovered that Michelle had died on his watch, despite her own attempt to drag them both into the chasm.

But his anger quickly shifted to pure confusion when he saw her begin to smile, a nearly manic grin that revealed all thirty-two teeth. Under the neon lights, with that smile, and perhaps influenced by the alcohol that clouded his mind, she seemed almost perfect.

Michelle was something he didn’t quite understand, and now he saw why Four had warned him about her, despite her not having done anything particularly noteworthy to earn that title. He also understood Jeanine’s interest in her.

With heavy sighs, they locked eyes, both intoxicated and driven by intense desire. Eric knew it was a terrible idea, something he would regret the next day, but the alcohol urged him to indulge in the moment's craving.

Because the Michelle before him wasn’t the girl he saw every day in the faction. No, this was a different Michelle. A side he was desperate to explore, because damn it, he was curious about every facet of her. This was the kind of person he was drawn to.

Without thinking too much, he moved his hands from her shoulders to cradle her face and neck, lowering himself to press his lips against hers. Michelle was surprised but quickly made space for him, parting her lips to let him explore.

She felt as if she were floating on clouds, lifted from the ground and carried through the faction. Her head spun as Eric claimed the kiss, and she smiled when he became more assertive, intense, as if he possessed every molecule of her.

The uneven wall pressed into her back as Eric used his entire body to push her against it, trapping her with his frame. It felt as if he was enveloping her, and the alcohol-infused Michelle couldn’t complain, feeling the fire inside her intensify.

She attempted a daring move, her hands slowly traveling to his neck, then into his hair. When the guy didn’t pull away, she grabbed a handful of his hair and tugged.

The sound that escaped Eric’s mouth as he momentarily pulled away from the tug was both obscene and exhilarating, and Michelle couldn’t help but smile. However, her grin was short-lived as Eric returned with even more ferocity, holding her still with a hand on her throat.

Eric let his hand slide slowly from her neck down her side, caressing every curve until reaching her hip and slipping it beneath her butt. With a surprising strength, he lifted her, wrapping her legs around his torso. She gasped for breath as he pressed her against the wall, making her acutely aware of what she was causing.

Both felt their bodies igniting, two flames that, when intertwined, created a blaze—something beautiful to behold and destructive to everyone around them.

Michelle and Eric were a perfect match in that moment when their bodies intertwined, even if not completely, when their breaths became one, and their mouths left marks on each other’s skin. A connection formed.

Something that would pull them apart before binding them inseparably.

Something that might save them from the destruction awaiting them, because, on the other hand, you can’t pour gasoline on a fire without igniting an inferno.

And Eric was the gasoline, and Michelle was the fire.

Knowledge pt.8

check here for the other parts!

Summary:

The story begins the same for everyone, on the day of the ceremony, one of the most important for all the kids who take part in it every year, and Michelle will not miss the opportunity to leave behind a faction that she did not feel belonged to her.

On her journey, however, she will encounter someone who will make her initiation feel like hell.

Pairing: Eric Coulter x reader

Word Count: 5.5k

As usual, Michelle didn't sleep that night, but it wasn't for training this time. She spent most of the night on a rooftop she had discovered while exploring the faction, relishing the peace it brought.

She felt anxious, almost scared at the thought of seeing her mother—if she showed up at all.

She stared at the horizon before her, occasionally scribbling in her notebook. Many found their city depressing and grotesque, with its various buildings and areas destroyed by the war years ago. For Michelle, though, they served as inspiration for her drawings.

However, her intricate designs began to take on a different tone from those she created in her old faction. They seemed to grow darker, more complex, and detailed as the days went by. Initially, she thought it was just a coincidence until she realized it was her state of mind, a reflection of the new reality she found herself in.

Dawn arrived sooner than she would have liked, and she reluctantly got up from the rooftop, heading toward the base's entrance. She stopped when she heard a faint mechanical noise, turning abruptly to locate the source.

She looked around, confused, until her eyes settled on a camera a few meters away. She approached it, swearing she had seen that camera pointing towards the end of the rooftop, not towards the door.

"What are you up to?" she muttered, peering closely at the device. 

The camera swiveled slightly, its lens focusing directly on her. Michelle's heart raced. She had always been cautious, but this felt different—like she was being watched, scrutinized. She stepped back, trying to think clearly. 

Was it a security measure? Or was someone spying on her?

She shook off the uneasy feeling and made her way to the entrance. She had a long day ahead, and dwelling on the camera would only distract her from her tasks. But as she walked away, the sense of being observed lingered, a shadow that would follow her throughout the day.

She raised an eyebrow, unaware of who was behind the camera, and continued on her way inside the faction.

When she reached the mess hall, she was surprised to see most of her companions already having breakfast, an air of lightness and cheerfulness among them. She took her usual seat next to Sunny, who was eating toast and chatting with Max and Tina, both of whom were also in high spirits.

“There you are! I was looking for you earlier. You weren’t in the dormitory or the gym. Where on earth did you go?” Sunny asked, sipping from the mug she held in her hand. “Ready? For the visits? Maybe you can introduce me to your parents! My mom would be thrilled to meet you.”

“I’m not going,” Michelle replied. Sunny's mouth fell open, confused.

“What do you mean you’re not coming? Your parents will be there!” Tina exclaimed, receiving a bored look from Michelle. “You don’t want them to come all this way for nothing, do you?”

Michelle shrugged, lowering her head and starting to poke at a piece of bread with jam, trying to buy some time. A thousand thoughts crowded her mind—the idea that her mother would actually come to the visits seemed highly unlikely.

But if she did come, what would she say? What would she do?

During breakfast, she withdrew into her thoughts, considering all the possible scenarios, until she felt a gaze piercing into the back of her head. She looked up, scanning the cafeteria for anyone who might be staring at her so intently.

“Why is Eric looking at you like he wants to kill you?” Michelle snapped her head towards Tina, who was looking behind her.

“Yeah, what did you do?” Max added, also observing the young leader.

Michelle turned slowly to see Eric's cold, calculating eyes fixed on her. His expression was unreadable, but there was a clear intensity that unsettled her. She forced herself to meet his gaze, trying not to show any sign of discomfort.

"I don't know," she muttered, breaking eye contact and turning back to her friends. "Maybe he's just in a bad mood."

"Or maybe," Max said, lowering his voice, "he knows something we don't."

"Like what?" Sunny asked, leaning in closer.

Michelle shook her head, trying to dismiss the growing tension. "I don't know. But whatever it is, I’ll deal with it later."

The rest of breakfast passed in relative silence, the cheerful atmosphere now tinged with an underlying tension. Michelle's mind raced with questions and uncertainties, the unease from the rooftop camera still lingering. She couldn't shake the feeling that something was brewing, something that would soon force her to confront more than just the possibility of seeing her mother.

Michelle slowly turned to see where the two were looking, and, of course, it was Eric. He watched her intensely, not so much aggressively, but more...curiously?

Sunny scoffed, "Ignore him. He's making our initiation a nightmare. I don't know what you did to piss him off, but I'd be careful."

Michelle nodded slowly, maintaining eye contact with the blonde until Lauren distracted him with an elbow to the ribs before standing up and silently leaving the cafeteria.

"I didn't do anything..." Michelle whispered.

"You must have done something. I don't think he's such a jerk to target you for no reason."

"Max, have you seen him?!" Tina exclaimed. "He's a total asshole. He's probably pissed because she climbed the ranks so quickly."

Max furrowed his brow, looking confused. "But shouldn't he be happy about that? I mean, the better people are, the better it is for the faction, right? Not that she's anything special."

Michelle looked at him, feeling a bit offended, and Max quickly corrected himself. "No offense, but there are people with way more talent than you, and yet he doesn't torment them constantly. You even helped him win capture the flag!"

"Ugh! Shut up, Max, you're not helping," Sunny snapped, standing up from the table. "Michelle, are you coming? Our parents should be arriving soon."

Reluctantly, Michelle stood up, ignoring the knot in her stomach as she walked toward the Pit; the chatter and laughter of her companions filled her ears. She distanced herself from the crowd, finding a more isolated, quieter spot.

Within minutes, the Dauntless faction was filled with exclamations, laughter, and chatter, even some tears. Michelle broke away from Sunny, leaving her to search for her parents among the crowd. Various colors invaded the monotony of the faction, like a splash of paint on a black canvas.

Michelle's eyes scanned the crowd, looking for a familiar face. Despite her earlier resolve to avoid this meeting, a small part of her hoped to see her mother. The anticipation gnawed at her, mixing with fear and anxiety.

As the crowd continued to bustle, she found a quiet corner to sit and observe, her sketchbook in hand. She doodled absentmindedly, her mind swirling with thoughts of what she would say if her mother did appear. Would she be angry? Sad? Relieved?

Michelle watched as the families reunited, hugging each other as if they hadn't seen each other in centuries. A pang hit her heart; a false hope formed inside her when she spotted a man in the crowd dressed in black and white, with wavy hair and the posture of someone who knew he held power.

She pushed herself off the wall she had been leaning against, vainly hoping that the man was her father. However, that hope was crushed when one of her initiation companions embraced him.

She felt foolish for believing that her father, who had disappeared years ago, would miraculously return just to see her. She still hadn't come to terms with his absence, unable to accept her mother's words, assuming he had probably ended up in some building in another part of the city, killed by the factionless.

Michelle clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms as she bit her tongue against the irritation building inside her. The Pit, despite its immense size, began to feel claustrophobic, as if all the air inside had been selfishly stolen by the happy families who continued to laugh and chat.

Her ears felt like they might bleed.

At that moment, she decided that this was not the place for her. She gave up on the idea of searching for her mother in the crowd because, deep down, she knew the woman would never set foot in the Dauntless faction, let alone come to see her of all people.

Unnoticed, Michelle slipped out of the Pit, heading towards the gym she now knew like the back of her hand. In no time, she found herself bare-handed, her jacket discarded a few meters away on the floor, standing in front of a punching bag.

She was overwhelmed with a multitude of emotions, something she wasn't used to. Was it sadness? Anger? Disappointment?

Resignation?

Michelle took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. Her fists itched to hit something, to release the pent-up frustration inside her. She approached the punching bag and started to throw punches, each hit harder than the last.

With every punch, she tried to channel her emotions—sadness for her father, anger at her mother, and disappointment in herself for still hoping against hope. The rhythmic thumping of her fists against the bag became a cathartic release, a way to express everything she couldn't put into words.

Tears of frustration mixed with sweat as she continued her assault on the bag. Her thoughts swirled in chaos, each punch a desperate attempt to make sense of her feelings. She punched until her knuckles were sore, her breath coming in ragged gasps, but she couldn't stop. It was the only way she knew how to cope.

In that moment of raw emotion, Michelle felt a strange sense of clarity. She might not have her family here, and she might never find the answers she sought, but she had herself. She had her strength, her resilience, and her determination.

And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

As she slowed down, her punches becoming weaker, she leaned against the bag, trying to catch her breath. The gym was silent except for her labored breathing and the faint echo of her punches. She wiped her face with her sleeve, the sting of tears and sweat mixing together.

Michelle took another deep breath and started again. She let out her frustration, even if it was just for a moment.

“What are you doing here, rookie?” Eric’s cold voice echoed through the gym, freezing Michelle in place before she could continue her workout.

“What does it look like?” she retorted quickly, her fists pounding the heavy bag with increasing force. She imagined her mother’s face as the target, the hate she felt for that woman growing stronger each day. Every thought of her mother brought a new reason to despise her.

Despite the anger fueling her, Michelle stayed alert, now aware that she wasn’t alone. The young leader seemed to have singled her out from everyone else. She heard his footsteps approaching cautiously, his boots echoing in the gym alongside the thuds of her punches.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him stop beside her. Realizing the potential trouble she could be in for speaking out of turn to Eric, she decided to remain silent and avoid looking at him. She was aware that her current mood was not suitable for a confrontation.

Eric’s stance grew more rigid. “Oh,” he huffed provocatively, “so now we’re playing the silent game, rookie?”

Michelle finally stopped when Eric blocked the heavy bag with his arm, his piercing blue eyes fixed intently on her. A faint blush crept across her face, and she lowered her gaze, hoping he would leave her alone.

“Hm?” Eric persisted, having clearly caught her full attention. “What’s wrong? Has that little mouth of yours finally run out of things to say, or was it never capable of speaking up?”

Michelle lifted her gaze to meet his eyes, her anger still palpable. “Why do you think I switched factions?”

Eric looked almost surprised to hear her voice and grinned mischievously. “Ah, here we go. The rookie finally speaks. Was it so hard to answer your leader? Or was that too much to ask?”

He shook his head, a satisfied sound escaping him as he finally released the bag and placed his hands behind his back. Michelle, tired of the game Eric seemed to relish, moved toward where she had dropped her jacket. When she reached for it, Eric’s hand intervened, grabbing the jacket and tossing it aside, toward the door.

She turned to face him, her brows furrowed in confusion. “You wanted to train? Fine, then train with me. Let’s go.”

Eric removed his jacket, tossing it near where Michelle’s had landed, and then kicked off his boots, gesturing for her to do the same. Hesitant and confused, Michelle complied, wondering why, all of a sudden, Eric wanted to spar with her. Was this his chance to take her out? Was his hatred for her really that intense?

She followed him onto the mat, quickly assuming a defensive stance. “Take off your hoodie,” he ordered, and she complied, letting the black hoodie fall next to the mat.

Before the hoodie even touched the ground, Eric lunged at Michelle, throwing a right hook that she narrowly dodged. She knew Eric played dirty, but she was determined to play even dirtier.

Michelle responded immediately with a direct punch to the solar plexus, but Eric, with his superior experience, grabbed her wrist, twisting it and pulling her into his chest. He wrapped an arm around her neck, immobilizing her.

“You’re fast, but not fast enough,” he whispered into her ear, his voice strained from the effort of holding her in place. Michelle began to feel the air slipping away, her vision dimming. In a desperate move, she drove her head back with all her strength, striking Eric directly in the nose.

The blow wasn’t enough to cause serious damage, but it was enough to make Eric’s nose bleed and free her from his hold. Michelle wasted no time and went back on the offensive, landing punch after punch. Eric tried to regain control, but she had memorized the slight twitch he made before attacking.

They fought relentlessly for what felt like an eternity until Michelle managed to knock him down with a strike to his legs. However, Eric grabbed her and pulled her down with him.

The situation flipped as Eric ended up on top of her, his grip tightening around her throat and slowly choking her. Terror gripped Michelle as she realized her initial suspicion wasn't far off the mark.

She fought desperately to reverse the situation, but Eric was significantly larger and stronger. As the black spots began to cloud her vision, she repeatedly struck Eric's arm, praying he would relent. To her immense relief, the young leader finally loosened his grip on her neck.

Michelle scrambled away, propping herself up on her elbows and coughing violently. She stayed in that position for a few seconds, catching her breath, until she felt Eric rise and watch her. “Do you surrender?” he challenged, his tone taunting.

She shook her head, resolute not to give in. She heard his footsteps muffled by the mat as he approached; Eric was trying to catch her off guard while she was still on the ground. As he grabbed her hair to resume the fight, Michelle swiftly pulled a small dagger hidden in the lining of her pants.

With a quick, decisive motion, she shoved Eric’s arm aside and lunged at him, determined to use every means at her disposal to win. Gripping the cold metal of the dagger firmly in her sweaty hand, Michelle prepared herself to confront Eric, ready to turn the fight in her favor.

With a quick and precise motion, Michelle aimed the dagger at the exposed flank of her opponent. But Eric, reacting instinctively, blocked her arm halfway. A moment of stalemate followed as the two faced each other, breathing heavily in the charged atmosphere.

Eric’s eyes burned with fury, but there was also a glimmer of admiration for her resolve. Michelle, on her part, showed no hesitation; her eyes were ablaze with fierce determination.

With supreme effort, Michelle managed to free the dagger from Eric’s grasp and pressed on with her assault. This time, she aimed directly at his chest. Eric, skilled in close combat, managed to deflect the blow with his arm, leaving a shallow cut along his forearm.

The fight raged on, both combatants giving their all. Every move was calculated and brutal. Eric tried to regain control, attempting to overpower Michelle with his superior strength, but she refused to give an inch. Every attack was met with ferocity, every hold countered with determination.

In a moment of distraction, Eric failed to block Michelle’s next move. She repeated the same maneuver he had used earlier, forcing him against her chest and pressing the dagger’s blade against his throat.

Eric froze in place. “Not fast enough?” she whispered in his ear, releasing her grip soon after, panting heavily, and stepping off the mat, signaling that the sparring session was over.

“Playing dirty, initiate?” Eric asked in a serious tone, though Michelle could sense a hint of amusement in his voice. She shrugged, turning her back on him, and bent down to grab a water bottle from one of the benches.

She tossed him a bottle, which he caught and drank from as if he were parched.

Michelle returned to the mat, sitting down and continuing to sip from her own bottle, ignoring the sharp gaze Eric fixed on her. “I have to admit, you surprised me, initiate.”

“I have a name,” Michelle responded tersely, noting that since joining the faction, Eric had yet to use her name.

Eric chuckled bitterly, surprisingly sitting down next to her. “I’ll call you whatever I please, initiate,” he emphasized the last word, a bit disappointed by her lack of reaction. Clearing his throat, he tossed the empty water bottle a few feet away. “You didn’t answer the question I asked.”

Michelle turned towards him, raising an eyebrow. “What are you doing here, initiate? Shouldn’t you be with your parents, pretending to be the picture-perfect family, ignoring the fact that you might never see them again?”

She turned her gaze back to the empty space in front of her, biting her tongue, her thoughts seething with frustration. Eric’s presence was a stark reminder of why she was here and not back in the Pit with the others.

“I don’t have anyone,” she said bitterly, catching out of the corner of her eye that Eric was still staring at her, waiting—or rather, demanding—a response.

Eric said nothing, choosing instead to observe something he had never noticed before: a tattoo peeking out from the tank top she was wearing.

The intricate design covered almost her entire back, and Eric frowned, puzzled by the fact that he had never seen this tattoo in the shop, nor this style. “Interesting tattoo,” he remarked apathetically. Michelle turned toward him, finally granting him her full attention, and saw him leaning slightly back, propped up on one arm as he studied her back.

Inside, she felt a flicker of pride and decided to take a perhaps foolish, risky move. She knelt and turned her back fully to him, lifting her tank top and bra with her hands to reveal the entire design.

She couldn’t see his reaction, nor his expression to gauge his opinion on whether he liked it or not. “Is there a new tattoo artist? I’ve never seen this style before.”

Michelle felt a pang of disappointment as she heard his apathetic tone, as if she had just asked about the most boring topic in the world. She felt a surge of embarrassment, thinking she had misjudged the nature of his initial question.

She adjusted her clothes, rising from the mat as quickly as possible, chastising herself for the second time that day for hoping she had finally received a compliment from him.

She didn’t understand why she continued to cling to the hope that someday the young leader might find some sympathy for her. It was a false hope, and she should have done what everyone had advised from the beginning: ignore him.

Gathering her belongings, she left the gym, too lost in her thoughts to notice that Eric followed her until he grabbed her by the shoulder and slammed her against the cold wall of the corridor.

Eric’s gaze was furious. “I don’t know who you think you are, but don’t bring me this disrespect, especially after not punishing you for all the crap you’ve pulled. So either you cut out this superior attitude, or I’ll personally see to it that you’re thrown off the edge.” Michelle stared at him, biting her tongue to keep fear from overcoming her. “Do you understand?”

She nodded slowly, sighing in relief when he finally released her shoulder, which would likely bruise with the imprint of his fingers. She watched him storm down the corridor, turning back toward the Pit, and Michelle hurried back to her quarters, not in the mood to encounter anyone on her path.

Unbeknownst to her, however, Eric didn’t head to the Pit. Instead, he made his way to the tattoo shop, where, upon entering, he was greeted enthusiastically by Tyson. “Eric, getting a new tattoo?”

“Not exactly. Who did the tattoo on the back of the new initiate?” Eric asked, glancing around the shop, searching for any tattoos that might resemble the one he had seen a few minutes ago.

Tyson chuckled, leaning on the counter with his elbows. “Well, my friend, I think I’ve done at least one tattoo for every new recruit who’s come through here this year. But I believe I know who you’re talking about. Michelle, I assume?”

“Exactly,” Eric replied nonchalantly, and Tyson smiled.

“I did the tattoo,” Tyson said, and Eric’s expression grew serious. “How come I don’t see this new style of yours on any of these walls? Did she have to do you a favor to get something done by you?”

Tyson burst into a rough laugh, shaking his head. Eric didn’t appreciate the humor. “No, Eric. The reason you don’t see one of my new ‘masterpieces’”—he made air quotes with his fingers—“is quite simple. Yes, I did the tattoo, but the design isn’t mine.”

“I don’t have time for these guessing games, Tyson,” Eric replied, frustrated. Tyson, sensing Eric’s mood, restrained his amusement and looked at him calmly.

“She designed it herself,” Tyson said. Seeing Eric raise his eyebrows, he nodded. “She came in and asked if it was possible to do a tattoo if she provided a specific design. Of course, we said yes. That’s why it’s not on display; she designed it herself. The girl’s got talent. I have to admit, I hope she’ll come work here... we could use some innovation.”

Eric nodded and left the tattoo shop, giving a brief nod to Tyson behind the counter. He went back to his own affairs, though inside he didn’t want to admit that he wanted a tattoo as cool as the one Michelle had. Especially since he’d have to ask her directly for a favor.

A month had passed since the beginning of the initiation, and as the first module came to an end, Michelle had managed to secure third place in the rankings, savoring the satisfaction of having improved day by day.

She ignored the gnawing emptiness in her stomach that had formed after her last interaction with Eric over a week ago and concluded that she must be a masochist for continuing to seek the young leader's attention amidst the crowd, fully aware that each encounter ended with her being hurt physically or emotionally.

In the end, she couldn't let it bother her too much; she needed to focus on climbing even higher in the rankings to prove to everyone that she was better than they were. It was a personal satisfaction that grew each day with every fight she won and every compliment Four gave her.

That day, everyone gathered in the massive gym, forming a semi-circle with Four in front of them and Eric standing a meter away, casually flicking a throwing knife between his fingers as if it were a feather.

“Today marks the end of the first module, and anyone below the red line will be eliminated tonight. So, I suggest you spend these last hours with the friends you won’t be seeing again,” he said, surveying the reduced group of initiates. “The second module, as mentioned, will be mental and likely the most exhausting, so take advantage of these days off to rest. We’ll see you again on Monday.”

Michelle heard someone sobbing behind her but remained still, staring at the ranking list pinned to the wall instead of following her peers out of the gym. She felt an embrace from the side and immediately recognized Sunny’s familiar scent, wrapping her arm around her friend’s waist in return.

Sunny’s excitement was palpable, and Michelle couldn’t help but grin. “We did it!” Sunny exclaimed, hugging her tightly. Michelle rested her head on Sunny’s shoulder, soaking up the positive energy radiating from her friend.

“If I were you, I wouldn’t celebrate so soon,” a voice that was all too familiar made Michelle spin around sharply, coming face-to-face with Eric’s sadistic smirk. “The next module is just as tough, if not tougher. I wouldn’t be surprised to see one of you”—he looked at Sunny—“not make it.”

Michelle stepped away from Sunny and placed a hand on her shoulder, guiding her out of the gym in an attempt to shield her from Eric’s discouraging words.

“What an asshole,” Sunny muttered once they were out of earshot of the gym. “I’ll make it! Come on, I’m in seventh place!”

Michelle glanced at her friend and said simply, “Ignore him,” as they continued toward the Pit, where their fellow initiates and another group had gathered to discuss something.

“…tonight, at nine,” Michelle overheard someone say. As they reached the group, Tina approached them, grabbing both their wrists and leading them toward the clothing stores on the other side of the Pit.

“What are you doing?” Sunny asked, pulling away from Tina’s grip. Michelle followed suit. Tina looked at them as if they had just said the most ridiculous thing ever.

“We absolutely need to go buy something! Haven’t you heard?” Tina insisted.

Sunny huffed, “No, we just got here. Maybe if you’d let us stay where we were, we’d know what’s going on.”

Tina rolled her eyes. “There’s a surprise event tonight, and we need to be prepared. You know how it is—Dauntless here love to throw curveballs.” She grabbed their arms again, this time with a firmer grip. “Come on, you don’t want to be caught off guard.”

Michelle and Sunny exchanged glances, then followed Tina, making their way to the stores. 

Tina waved her hand dismissively. “Tonight’s a party to celebrate the initiates who made it through the first phase of the module, and we need to celebrate, girls!” she exclaimed, starting to dance without music or rhythm.

The two friends exchanged skeptical glances, but Sunny decided to join Tina, eager at the prospect of attending a real party rather than just going out for drinks with friends.

Michelle, however, wasn’t as enthusiastic as the two girls who eagerly moved toward the stores a few meters ahead, already discussing what they might wear to make a good impression.

She followed them quietly, pulling her jacket tighter around herself to shield against the biting wind that swept through the faction that day. The chill gave her goosebumps, and she sighed in relief as they entered one of the stores, finally escaping the cold.

“Come on, Michelle! Let’s go!” Sunny grabbed her by the wrist, dragging her toward the back of the store where various party dresses, skirts, and outfits were displayed, mostly in colors like black, gray, and red. “This one’s amazing!”

Michelle looked at the dress Sunny had picked off a hanger, a simple black, form-fitting dress that reached the ankles. She regarded it absentmindedly, nodding at the idea of seeing her friend wear it, which elicited a sarcastic huff from Sunny.

“We’re not torturing you, you know. It would be nice to see you dressed up for once, with a nice dress and some makeup to highlight your features,” Tina commented as she joined them with a couple of dresses in hand. “And who knows, we might finally find you someone.”

Michelle raised an eyebrow, looking at Tina with a mix of curiosity and skepticism. “Find me someone? Like who?” 

“Come on, it’s just a party,” Tina said, shrugging. “Besides, it's not every day you get a chance to dress up and have fun. You never know who you might meet.”

Michelle rolled her eyes at Tina's persistence, trying to escape the pressure to conform to the social norms of the event. She didn’t understand why it was so important to put so much emphasis on something like this. She loathed the attention, even though in the quiet corners of her mind, her thoughts often revolved around someone.

"Sunny only has eyes for Four, and I’ve got my eye on someone too. You’re the only one missing out!" Tina pressed on, ignoring Michelle’s clear signals of discomfort. "Isn’t there anyone you’re interested in?"

"No," Michelle replied, attempting to shut down the conversation.

Tina stopped and gave her a serious look. "I don’t believe you for a second. I mean, there are so many guys and girls around. How is it possible that no one interests you? I saw you talking to that tattooed guy—older than us?"

Michelle sighed, frustrated by Tina’s relentless curiosity. Grabbing a few items at random from the racks, she retreated into a changing room, finally free from Tina’s incessant chatter. Inside, she looked at the clothes she had picked out and wondered if trying something new might not be so bad.

One of the items was a dress similar to Sunny’s but shorter and with a cut that made her feel like a sausage. She tossed it aside and decided to try on the sleeveless, form-fitting turtleneck and pants. As she looked at herself in the mirror, a hollow feeling gripped her stomach, stirring up memories she wished she could forget.

Struggling to remove the pants, which reminded her too much of the Candor style, she accidentally bumped into the changing room wall with her elbow. She heard Sunny’s concerned voice on the other side. 

“Everything okay?”

“Yes,” Michelle snapped, her frustration mounting as Sunny continued to knock on the door. “Why are you in your underwear?”

Sunny looked her up and down with an almost disgusted expression. “And you thought you could wear those to a party?! You really don’t know how to dress, do you?” She took the pants from Michelle's hand and disappeared into the store, returning shortly after with five different skirts. “Now try these on and come out so I can see how they look! It’s so nice to do something normal for once.”

Michelle tried on the first skirt. “Hmm, not convinced. Turn around? No, it makes your butt look flat. Ew.”

Then the second one. “Cute, but it’s too formal and long.” 

“How so? It reaches your knee!”

Then the third. “This one you can keep, it’s not bad. A bit basic, but it actually goes really well with that top.”

Then the fourth. Michelle shot down the critique before it could even start. “I can’t walk in this,” she said, trying to pull down the thick material of the denim skirt, which seemed to lift an extra centimeter with each step she took.

“I’ll give you that one.”

And then the last one. When Michelle emerged from the changing room, her friend’s eyes lit up. She jumped up from the couch and gave a brief applause. “This is the one! Come on, look at yourself!”

She grabbed Michelle by the shoulders and led her in front of the full-length mirror. Despite her reluctance to admit it, Michelle found the skirt really cute. It was her style—black and, although very, very short, it had built-in shorts to prevent any wardrobe malfunctions.

What she liked most was the faux belt, which added a raw touch that contrasted with the rest of the outfit. She felt her friend’s fingers brushing her hair away and didn’t think much of it until she saw Sunny’s shocked expression.

“And when did you get this?!” Sunny exclaimed, staring at the tattoo that covered Michelle’s entire back like an intricate map. “It’s not my style, but it’s beautiful—huge, really huge.”

“A while ago,” Michelle said apologetically, heading back into the changing room to put her old clothes back on. She emerged with the other two girls, ready to prepare for the actual party.

Home Is Where The Heart Is | Negan Smith

check the other parts here!

Summary:

There is no longer a home, no place of comfort in that world. One survives to live, risking life to move forward and protect one's people.

But there are always two sides of the same coin. So, is the villain truly the villain? Or is He just the villain in your story?

Pairing: Negan Smith x reader

Word Count: 1.5k

august 25, 2010

Delilah's eighteenth birthday was a tragic one. She spent it in a hospital room, watching her father connected to life-support machines. Carl stayed by the bedside, holding his father's hand, his sobs muffled in the blankets, while their mother stood just outside the door, speaking animatedly with a doctor. Shane tried to calm her, gently placing a hand on her arm.

Delilah felt suffocated in that hospital room. She curled up in a chair in the corner, hoping her father would wake up, but everyone knew, except Carl, that this wouldn't happen. At least, not now.

Carl's sobs grew louder, echoing in the empty room. Delilah had to fight back her own tears at the sight of her little brother in such distress. His desperation was palpable, especially when he offered to donate his blood to help their father.

She rose from the chair and went to Carl, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. He immediately sought refuge in her embrace, letting go of their father's hand and clinging to her with all his strength, tears soaking her shirt.

"Will he wake up?" he whispered. Delilah stroked his hair, trying to soothe him.

"I don't know," she replied. His sobs grew louder at this, and she felt a pang of guilt for not fully comforting him, but she didn't want to lie. She understood how these things worked, she knew what her father's job entailed, and unfortunately, their mother had prepared her over the years for such a possibility.

But Carl was young; he couldn't grasp what was happening, not yet. "Everything will be okay, Carl. I promise," she whispered like a mantra, holding him close until his cries began to soften.

The door to the room opened, and their mother entered with Shane, both looking devastated. Delilah knew what this meant. The doctor had no good news, and that could only mean one thing: Rick Grimes had very little chance of survival.

"Let's go home, kids," Lori whispered, her gaze never leaving her husband. "Let's give Dad some time to recover." Her voice was barely audible, but they got up anyway, Carl still in his sister's arms as they left the room in silence, followed by Shane.

"I'll take you home," Shane offered. "Go get some rest, and we'll wait for news from the hospital. Don't hesitate to call me for anything; it's what Rick would want."

"Thank you, Shane," Lori replied, accepting the comforting embrace he offered. It made Delilah shiver, and she held Carl even tighter. There was something wrong, something she had never seen before in Shane's eyes, and it was something she wished had remained hidden.

“How's your dad?”

“I don't know. He's in the hospital, and from what I understand, there isn't much good news. I just hope he gets better soon,” Delilah replied over the phone, pacing back and forth in her room. “It was a really shitty birthday present.”

Camilla chuckled on the other end. “I can imagine, but things will get better. I wanted to drop by to see you all, bring something for you and Carl, and even Lori, but my mom won't let me leave because of some weird news on TV.”

“Yeah, I heard something about that. It's probably another hoax. Tumblr is full of them lately. People losing their minds and doing stupid stuff. Did you see that post?”

“Which one?”

“Liza reblogged it. Apparently, cannibalism is making a comeback,” Delilah joked, unaffected by the macabre video circulating online. “It's probably fake, almost certainly, but it's one of the weirdest trends in the past few weeks.”

“Ew!” exclaimed Camilla. “And you watched it? You're crazy; I don't know how you don't throw up at that stuff.”

Delilah shrugged, taking a bite of the apple in her hand. “It's fake anyway. I doubt a group of lunatics would go around America eating people without getting caught. And the person filming it is way too calm.”

“You're weird, girl, let me tell you,” Camilla sighed on the other end. “Ugh, I have to go. My mom is freaking out over this news and wants to go back to Mexico to stay with relatives. She seriously sounds like a crazy woman!”

Delilah laughed. “Alright, see you tonight?”

“I don't think so, especially if my mom keeps this up. Talk to you tomorrow, girl!”

When she finished the apple, she tossed it out the window into the neighbor's garden, unconcerned about the complaints she would hear the next day. Her curiosity was piqued by her mother’s worried voice coming from the kitchen, apparently talking on the phone.

She left her room, peeked into Carl’s and quietly closed the door, seeing him asleep on the bed with one of their father's hoodies as a blanket. The sight made her heart ache; seeing her little brother in such a state broke her heart.

"Is everything okay?" she asked her mother as she came down the stairs, entering the kitchen where Lori was barricading the windows with blankets, blocking out the light. "What are you doing?"

Lori turned, surprised by the intrusion. Her face was full of worry. "Help me," she ordered, tossing Delilah some blankets and heading to the living room.

Delilah started to panic, confused by Lori's strange behavior. "Mom, what’s going on?" she asked, raising her voice, but Lori didn’t answer her directly.

"You're not going out tonight."

"What?! Why?" Delilah exclaimed, dropping the blankets. "You can't do this to me, it’s been planned for weeks! Mom?" She felt her anger rising, irritated by her mother's behavior.

She watched Lori move frantically around the house. "No one is leaving. Now help me until Shane gets here," Lori said, turning to look at her, and Delilah was shocked to see the pure terror on her mother’s face. Her anger turned into sheer fear.

"Mom?" she called. "Mom, what’s happening?"

Lori stopped, running her hands through her hair. "I don’t know, honey, I don’t know. Shane called from the hospital saying something’s happening, people are losing their minds, biting other patients. It's chaos in there, just like in the city. Everyone’s trying to leave."

"Leave from what?" Delilah asked, confused.

"I don’t know, something they mentioned on TV. But now help me and wake Carl up, we need to get ready to go," Lori resumed covering the windows. Heart pounding, Delilah went to wake Carl.

Delilah watched the landscape outside the window. The sky had grown dark, and they had been driving for hours, not knowing exactly where they were headed. She had heard Shane mention a refuge in downtown Atlanta, and the initial plan was to reach it as soon as possible. However, it seemed the entire city had the same idea, as they quickly found themselves stuck in traffic, an endless line of cars ahead of them.

“Wait here,” Lori said to the two kids as she got out of the car, followed by Shane, who went to talk to other people who had also stepped out of their vehicles, realizing they wouldn't be able to get out of this traffic jam anytime soon.

Delilah watched Carl looking around, alert. “Where did they go?”

“I don’t know,” she replied, leaning her head against the window. “They’ll be back soon, don’t worry.”

Carl turned to her. “How can you be so calm?”

“I’m tired,” she answered simply, closing her eyes to block out the external noises: people shouting, arguing, and especially the car horns blaring. “If you sleep, time passes faster.”

“I’m not sleepy, I want Mom,” Carl said, shifting on the seat to look outside, searching for Lori. “They’re coming back!” he exclaimed when he saw Lori and Shane returning with some other people.

“See? I told you it’d be okay,” Delilah said, growing more exhausted with each passing minute. She soon fell asleep, succumbing to the embrace of Morpheus.

But her peace was short-lived. Loud noises jolted her awake, and she noticed the car was now empty. Panic set in as she frantically looked for Carl, hoping he hadn’t wandered off to explore. Relief washed over her when she saw him with a group of people, playing with a blonde girl.

Shane and Lori were near their car, looking up at the sky from where the noise originated. Delilah joined them, also looking up, trying to understand what they were watching.

Lori took her by the shoulders, hugging her. “It’s going to be okay,” she whispered in her ear, stroking her hair. “As long as we’re together, it’ll be okay.”

The noise grew louder, and planes flew overhead. It didn’t take them long to realize where they were headed. Delilah followed Shane, who entered the woods, moving in the direction the planes were flying, with Lori right behind them.

“What’s happening?” she tried to ask, but her voice was drowned out by the roar of more planes passing overhead.

They stopped when they emerged from the woods near the highway. Delilah brought her hands to her mouth, horrified by the sight before her. Atlanta was being bombed, and even from that distance, they could see the explosions, the city lighting up in flames.

The refuge was gone, just like the normalcy of their entire world.