The world swam in Tom’s vision, it made him nauseous. His head throbbed as a warm trickle of blood ran down the side of his head. His neck hurt.

He felt everything lurch upwards, the ship taking off into the sky.

Tom peered through the wire mesh of his cage. His blurry vision barely making out the rapid shifting of figures. One of the figures disappeared off the back of the ship. Someone he knew.

C-13, he thought faintly.

His view started to blur and twist. Tom’s gaze drifted down and his eyes slowly shut.

He tried to call out for Paris but before he could, his world grew dark and cold...

Tom’s eyes shot open to find himself gazing into a white light. He squinted quickly in response; the bright light had hurt his eyes.

Tom tried to move but found his body refused to respond. Only his eyes still remained under his command, the only thing he could move. His breath quickened and his heart pounded as fear built in his chest.

His eyes darted across the room quickly, looking for Paris, for anyone.

All he saw was medical instruments and white walls, his surroundings devoid of life. He didn’t know where he was and there was no one to ask.

His heart hurt.

A machine next to him had started to beep loudly, the noise bouncing against the room's hollow walls. The sound reverberated inside Tom’s head to produce an unrelenting mind-shattering pain. Tom tried to cover his ears, to scream out in shock and pain, but he could not.

A door outside his vision slammed open, a person running to his side. Tom tried to see who it was, to ask for help but no words came. The person wore a set of white scrubs and tapped at the blaring machinery.

“Calm down kid, we were almost ready to perform the surgery.” The man said frustrated.

Tom didn’t want to calm down. He didn’t want surgery. He wanted to leave.

Tom wanted to be able to move, to speak, to scream in rage at the world.

He wanted the unceasing noise to stop.

He wanted to talk to his friend Paris.

He wanted his mother back from the dead.

In his mind Tom cried out for help, pleas for his mother to save him.

His world started to fuzz again.

The man finished tapping at the machines nearby, finishing the release of a sedative. Tom fought to stay awake, to refuse the embrace of the forced dark.

Struggle was all Tom did, all the way till he drifted off into that soft goodnight...

----------------------------------------

“Tom? Tom? Can you hear me? Tom?” A woman’s voice asked from far away.

Tom’s eyes fluttered open slowly in response, the action more from instinct than from his own will, the dark had been so nice.

“Good, you’re awake! Do you want to tell me how you feel?” The woman asked.

Tom’s head still felt fuzzy, like a radio that was just out of range. He turned his head towards the woman, his movement restored.

She stood next to him, hovered slightly over his bed. She wore a dark grey suit, a tablet in hand, her hazel eyes staring directly down at him.

Tom looked away from the woman to scan the room, another hollow and white shell.

“Hey! You moved your head! That’s great Tom! Just take it slow though.” The woman said cheerfully from his side.

Tom turned towards her, “Everything is fuzzy inside. Where am I?” Tom replied, his voice dry and hoarse.

The woman tapped at the tablet as he spoke before she looked back at Tom, a kind smile on her face.

“The fuzziness is just a result of the anesthetic.” The woman said as she started to prod at Tom’s side with a metal rod.

Tom recoiled from the poker, a swat from his hand attempted to shoo it away.

“What are doing?! Stop it!” Tom snapped at the woman, his frustration bleeding through.

“Ah, good! Your movement is fully restored.” She stated. She rapped her fingers against her tablet again.

Tom’s eyebrows lowered in irritation, the lack of response from the woman getting to him.

“Where am I! Where is Paris!” Tom finally shouted at her.

The woman tilted her head and smiled down at him.

“You are at a Red Door testing facility; you had a little fall and broke your neck. We saved you and your friends then fixed it up for you.” The woman responded.

“Unfortunately, the treatment was expensive and seeing as you have no living relatives, the debt falls to you.” She continued.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

I broke my neck? Tom thought in confusion.

He didn’t remember that, in fact, he didn’t remember much about what happened. Thinking back, the last thing he remembered was C-13 knocking him over and running off with Paris. An attempt to escape, but what?

Tom furrowed his brow as no further memories supplied themselves.

The woman turned the tablet to face Tom, pages of text rested on its face.

“What is that?” Tom asked, the words mixing together in the boy's vision. He was not the best reader.

“It is your contract.” The woman informed him happily, “It just states how in order for you to pay off your debt, you will sign yourself off and allow Red Door to be your legal guardian.”

Tom’s face contorted in thought as he tried to understand what that meant. The woman took note of his expression and explained.

“After rescuing you and the other children from a quarantine zone as well as providing medical aid. You and the others have accrued quite a debt to Red Door. Since you have no family to pay your debt, this contract allows you to claim the Red Door corporation as a guardian.”

The woman scrolled down to the bottom of the contract’s pages to a dotted line.

“All you have to do is sign this, as many of the other children already have, and you will be under the protection of Red Door. You will stay here with your friends!” She finished out, a grand smile on her face.

Tom still didn’t understand what she had explained, his head still fuzzy and disoriented.

He looked down at the dotted line. The woman had told him that his friends had signed, that he would see them if he did.

Maybe he would see Paris?

“Will I get to see my friend Paris?” Tom asked.

The woman hesitated a minute but responded with her usual vigor, “Of course! In fact, she already signed her contract and is waiting for you with the others!”

Tom’s face lit up, the thought of being with Paris again filled him with joy despite his headaches.

He moved to sign the contract, his finger carefully sketching out his name as he had been taught. The letters were shaky and uneven, but there was no doubt the signature was his.

“Wonderful Tom! I'm so glad you decided to stay with us! Someone will come to take you to your friends in just a little bit!” The woman spoke out quickly.

She tapped at the tablet rapidly and sent a message.

The woman moved to the door and exited with a wave.

Tom waved back and leaned into his bed in relief.

His mother's face flashed across his mind. He had lost her and so many others, but he hadn't lost Paris.

Tom allowed himself a small smile.

----------------------------------------

A man in black scrubs came to fetch Tom a few minutes later. Though only a few minutes had passed, to Tom it felt like hours.

Tom got out of his bed and changed out of the medical gown he was in and into a thin pair of gray pants and a similar grey T-shirt. The man had brought them along with him, in addition to a bottle of juice.

Tom hadn’t realized how thirsty he had been until he saw the juice. He unscrewed the cap and downed the drink in seconds.

The man chuckled slightly at the boy's rapid consumption and guided him out of the room.

The pair found themselves in a series of white concrete hallways, the rooms lit by bright fluorescent lights. The smell of chemicals hung in the air.

Tom had to control himself to keep pace with the man. He had to constantly stop himself from rushing ahead, eager to reunite with Paris and the others.

His mind wandered over the thought of how she had gotten there. She must have ended up getting taken from the town like the rest of the kids. C-13 had run off with Paris to escape the men, to where though, Tom didn’t know.

He was glad that Paris ended up coming with the men after all though. Tom hoped that the robot was alright, but it seemed it may have had the wrong impression of the soldiers.

Tom suddenly arrived at a set of doors; his train of thought lost.

“Your friends are right through here.” The man said.

With a shove, the man opened the doors. The room was long and lined with bunks, kids sat on and around them. The sound of chatter died out as they walked in, before erupting back as Tom was recognized by the others.

They called out to him and ran over to the boy. Tom was excited to see the other children here and safe, but he turned to look for Paris.

He couldn’t see her.

Tom turned to the group of other children.

“Where is Paris?” Tom asked a young boy, remembering his name to be Yiku.

“Paris isn’t here.” The kid replied curtly.

Not here?

“What do you mean? The woman said she was here?” Tom asked, his previous excitement falling away.

“I don’t know, she’s not here. Some people who were hurt have been filtering in though. Maybe she will come in later?” Yiku said in an attempt to console him.

Tom nodded his head, that would make sense. As much as he hoped that Paris wasn’t hurt, she might have gotten injured when fleeing with C-13.

Tom found a seat on a bunk near a group of kids he knew, the Bouncer Boys.

The triplets had gotten hold of a pack of playing cards and were pretending to play poker. Tom joined in their make-believe game and waited for a girl that would never come.

A clock above the door signified that night had come and a woman entered the room with a trolley of food for dinner. The meals were simple servings of rice and faux meat, but it tasted delicious to the children's empty stomachs.

Everyone ate their fill, and the woman went to leave.

Tom stopped her, “Excuse me Ma’am.”

“Yes honey?” the woman replied politely.

“Can I keep a plate of food for my friend? She isn’t here yet but will be coming soon and I don’t want her to be hungry.” Tom said.

“Oh honey of course,” The woman handed Tom a plate of food, “Here you go baby.” She said, a warm smile on her face.

“Thank you!” Tom replied.

The woman left.

Tom sat awake on his bed while the other kids went to sleep. He had decided to stay up and wait for Paris to get here. The food would be cold, but there wasn’t much he could do about that.

The hours slowly ticked by, the night slowly becoming the next day. Despite his best efforts, Tom had drifted off at some point during the night.

Day came with the ringing of a bell, another trolley of food brought in along with a man in a charcoal grey lab coat. Food was doled out, pancakes and fruit paste, as the man in the coat turned to speak to the children.

With a cough the man turned the room’s attention to himself.

Tom and the other children slowed their meal to listen.

“Hello everyone! I’m honored to welcome you to the Red Door family.” The man spoke behind a false smile, his teeth crooked and sharp.

“I would like to offer my condolences on your families, it is only by sheer luck that we were able to rescue you all from that terrible place.” The man bowed his head a moment in silence.

Tom and the other children stopped eating for a moment and quieted themselves, the memory of what transpired still fresh in their minds.

But children's minds are keen to change, as the man knew well.

The man rose from his bow, “Despite your circumstance, you have decided to become a part of a greater whole. You should be proud. Today will mark the first day of your new lives.”

The man gazed across the large crowd of children, making eye contact with many. Tom locked eyes with him for a moment, the man’s eyes deep and cold.

It made Tom shiver.

“Today we will be performing some basic tests to help decide the best place here for all of you.”, The man said with a smile, “I look forward to the future we will soon share.”

The man bowed and left the room. The children mostly disregarded his speech, choosing instead to return to their food rather than talk about the speech.

Tom wondered what the test would entail and where he would be sent. Though what he really wondered was where Paris was and if they would end up in the same place.

He hoped so.

Tom went up to the lady serving food and asked for another plate to keep for Paris, he returned the plate he had taken last night, the food still resting on it.

Begrudgingly the woman handed him another plate of food and sent him on his way.

Tom sat amongst the others but faced the door. He would be ready when Paris showed up.